The Project Gutenberg eBook, Western Himalaya and Tibet, by Thomas Thomson

ISKARDO.
From the South.

Pl. I.
J. W. del. W. L. Walton, Lithog. Printed by Hullmandel & Walton.

WESTERN HIMALAYA
AND
TIBET;

A NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY THROUGH THE
MOUNTAINS OF NORTHERN INDIA,
DURING THE YEARS 1847-8.

BY
THOMAS THOMSON, M.D., F.L.S.,
ASSISTANT SURGEON BENGAL ARMY.

LONDON:
REEVE AND CO., HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

1852.

PRINTED BY
JOHN EDWARD TAYLOR, LITTLE QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.

PREFACE.

On the termination of my journey in Tibet, I submitted to the Indian Government a detailed report of my observations in that country. It was my original intention to request the permission of the Court of Directors to publish this report in the form in which it was drawn up; but after my return to England, this plan was, at the suggestion of friends, abandoned for that now followed.

At the time of my appointment to the Tibet Mission, my attention had not been specially directed to the Himalaya, but I have since had many opportunities of studying that chain of mountains. My first definite impressions of Himalayan geography were received from my fellow-travellers, Major Cunningham and Captain Henry Strachey. The latter gentleman had just completed one of the most adventurous journeys ever made in the Himalaya; and Major Cunningham's knowledge of the geography of Northern India is so accurate and extensive, that the delay in the publication of his map, although caused by the devotion of his leisure time to other branches of research, is a subject of deep regret to all who know its value. More recently I have had the good fortune to travel in the Eastern Himalaya with Dr. Hooker, and it was a source of great gratification to me, when we met, to find that in studying these mountains at opposite extremities of the chain, the results at which we had arrived were almost identical.

My botanical collections, which were very extensive, have as yet been only roughly assorted, and the names of plants given in the present work are chiefly derived from a careful comparison of specimens with the Hookerian Herbarium at Kew,—a collection which, as is well known to Botanists, both from its extent and from the liberality with which it is thrown open to students of that science, occupies in this country the place of a national collection.

The heights of places given in the work have been derived from very various sources. Those in the earlier part are chiefly from the extremely accurate observations of the Gerards; for others I have to thank my fellow-travellers; but the greater number are calculated from my own observations of the boiling-point of water, and do not therefore pretend to great accuracy. Still the thermometer which I used (by Dollond) was a very good one, and comparisons with barometric observations, or with known heights, have given such results as satisfy me that at considerable elevations it may be depended upon to within three or four hundred feet as an extreme error.

The orthography of oriental proper names is a question of great difficulty, and grave objections may be urged against any system which has been proposed. If each European nation represents the sound of the vowels and variable consonants after the mode which prevails in its own language, then proper names must be translated, as it were, when rendered from one of these languages into another; whereas, if the mode of spelling the names remain fixed, then the value of the letters must be different in the majority of the languages from that which usually prevails. For purely popular purposes the former method would probably be the most judicious; and the English language has peculiar facilities for rendering oriental sounds, in consequence of its possessing the open sound of u, as in but, which is wanting in other European languages, though so common in Arabic, Persian, and Hindee, and all cognate tongues.

A uniform mode of spelling, however, has so many advantages, that I have been induced to give it a preference; but it will be seen that in a few instances, where the popular mode of spelling has become familiar, and as it were a portion of the English language, as in the words Punjab, Jumna, Sutlej, Kussowlee, and a few others, I have not had courage to carry out the rule.

For the plates which accompany the work I have to thank Mr. Winterbottom, who very kindly permitted me to select from a series of sketches those which I thought most suitable. This was not an easy task; but in the two views of the neighbourhood of Iskardo I found so faithful a representation of the extremely rugged scenery of the Tibetan mountains, contrasted with the level plain of Iskardo, and the lacustrine strata of the neighbourhood, that no more desirable illustrations for a journey in Tibet could be conceived. The little vignette, too, though it does not represent any part of the country through which I travelled, is precisely similar to many ravines in Rondu, and serves to show that the Gilgit valley is quite the same in general appearance with that district. I was more particularly desirous of introducing this sketch, from the very faithful representation it contains of the alluvial platforms which skirt the streams in every part of Tibet.

The map is founded principally upon Mr. Arrowsmith's large map, and his name is its best guarantee. The districts round the Pangong lake are taken from a sketch given to me by Captain H. Strachey, and the whole of the eastern part has been revised by him. A great part of the course of the Shayuk has been laid in by Mr. Arrowsmith from my own rough survey, while the little-known district between Jamu and Zanskar, which I was not competent to survey, has been rendered as nearly as possible from the notes which I had made of the length and direction of my marches.

The sketch of the district between Nubra and the Karakoram pass, which will, I hope, be found useful as an illustration of that part of my journey, has been prepared for me by Dr. Hooker, from a rough draft of my survey, assisted by verbal explanations.

In conclusion, I have to add, that for the correction of the press, during which process many asperities by which the manuscript was disfigured have disappeared, I have to thank my kind friends, Dr. and Mrs. Hooker.

CONTENTS.

MAP of the MOUNTAINS OF NORTHERN INDIA. to illustrate D^r. Thomson's Travels in Western Himalaya and Tibet.

D^r. Thomson's Route is coloured Red.

Drawn & Engraved by John Arrowsmith.

WESTERN HIMALAYA
AND
TIBET.

CHAPTER I.

Appointment to a Mission about to proceed to Tibet—Leave Firozpur for Simla—Approach to the Mountains—Appearance of Himalaya from Plains of India—Kalka—Ascent to Kussowlee—Vegetation of Plainward Face—Origin of Kussowlee Ridge—Climate and Vegetation of Kussowlee—Aspect of inner ranges—Road from Kussowlee to Simla—Sabathu—Cross Gambar River—Haripur—Tropical Vegetation of Basin of Gambar—Steep Ascent to Simla—its extent and situation—its Vegetation—Oak-forest—Pines—Flora of Spring Months—of Rainy Season—View from Peak of Jako—Structure of Mountain Ranges.

In the month of May, 1847, while with my Regiment at Firozpur on the south bank of the Sutlej, I received intimation that Lord Hardinge, at that time Governor-General of India, had appointed me a member of a mission which he had determined to despatch across the Himalaya Mountains into Tibet; and I was directed to proceed without delay to Simla, from which place the mission was to start, as soon as the necessary arrangements could be completed.

I left Firozpur on the evening of the 20th of May, and travelling only at night, on account of the extreme heat, I arrived at the foot of the hills, on the morning of the 24th. The greater part of the road was through a perfectly level country, and nearly parallel to the Sutlej, but without following its sinuosities. During a part of the last night's journey, I travelled among low hills, partly composed of loose sand and boulders, partly of clay and sandstone. The road enters this tract by an open valley, bounded on both sides by hills, which on the left are low and rounded. On the right they are scarped towards the plains, as well as towards the valley up which I travelled, and the strata of which they are composed, dip towards the Himalaya. The valley is traversed by a little stream descending from the mountains, one of the tributaries of the Gagar or Markanda, that remarkable river, which runs in a south-west direction, as if about to join the Indus, but ultimately loses itself in the sands of the Bikanir desert.

APPEARANCE OF HIMALAYA FROM THE PLAINS OF INDIA.
May, 1847.

When viewed from the plains of India, at a distance sufficient to enable the spectator to see the most elevated part of the chain, the Himalaya appear to form several distinct parallel ranges on the horizon, rising in succession one behind another. The most distant of these is covered with perpetual snow, while the other two, usually called the middle and outer ranges, have the usual blue-grey tint of distant mountains. From very great distances in the plains, the most remote of these three apparent ranges is alone visible; and as the traveller advances towards the base of the mountains, the others rise in succession above the horizon.

The optical deception, in consequence of which, masses of mountains of every configuration resolve themselves into ranges perpendicular to the line of sight, as soon as the eye is so far removed that the outline of the different parts becomes indistinct, has given to our maps many mountain-chains, which a nearer inspection proves to have no existence. As a good instance of this, I may mention the Suliman range, west of the Indus, which, though laid down in all our maps as a mountain belt, parallel to and skirting the plain country, behind which no mountains at all are represented, evidently consists of a series of ranges, almost perpendicular to the Indus, and separated from one another by considerable rivers. The sources of these rivers lie far back, and the north and south axis from which they spring, separates all the tributaries of the Indus from a succession of streams, which run in a south-westerly direction, and appear to terminate, without reaching the sea, in the low and flat country of Seistan and western Beluchistan.

At distances of between sixty and thirty miles from the base of the Himalaya, the three parallel chains are well seen. On a nearer approach, the lower and outer mountains by degrees become more distinct, and subtend a greater angle, so as at last to conceal the more distant portions of the chain. At the same time, the uniformity of outline by which they had been characterized, insensibly disappears. Ridges become visible in the face presented to the eye, which, as the traveller continues to advance, become developed into projecting spurs, separated from the general mass by wide valleys, previously quite undistinguishable. On a still nearer approach, the elevation continuing to increase, the extent of range embraced by the eye is gradually lessened, till at last, when we arrive at the base of the mountains, a single valley with its bounding ranges of low hills is alone visible, the giant masses, so conspicuous from a greater distance, being no longer to be seen.

The low sandy or sandstone hills, which form the outskirts of the Himalaya, are not, on the road from Firozpur to Simla, anywhere of greater elevation than a few hundred feet. A few miles beyond the entrance, the valley, which has a considerable slope, widens as it approaches the more lofty mountains, and the sandstone cliffs are replaced by rounded hills, probably of a more ancient rock, covered with soil and vegetation.

KALKA.
May, 1847.

At the very base of the steep mountains is situated the village of Kalka, at which, as it is the termination of palankin travelling, travellers in general stop, to arrange for the continuance of their journey. Situated close to the source of the little stream which I had been following since I had entered the hilly country, and surrounded on all sides by low hills, Kalka has an elevation of perhaps 2000 feet above the level of the sea, or 1000 feet above the plain on the outside of the sandstone hills.

The general aspect of the low hills around Kalka is barren and uninviting; it was especially so at the season of my visit, when the great heat had scorched the herbaceous vegetation, and all nature had a burnt-up appearance. The subtropical valleys are not here, as farther to the east along the base of the mountains, filled with dense forest. They are in general bare, a few scattered trees only appearing here and there. In the level part of the valley, at the very entrance, where the soil was still of some depth, Acacia Arabica and Butea frondosa, the most prevailing trees of the plains beyond, were frequent; but the stony water-courses contained little but a bamboo, and the hill-sides were covered with scattered bushes of the more ordinary shrubs of the plains of Northern India, and presented few features of interest.

ASCENT TO KUSSOWLEE.
May, 1847.

Immediately on leaving Kalka, a long and steep ascent commenced, continuing for about ten miles, to the military post of Kussowlee, which occupies the crest of the ridge overlooking the Kalka valley, and can be seen throughout the greater part of the ascent, overhanging the winding road, which has been constructed along the side of the mountain. The elevation of Kussowlee is about 6500 feet, an altitude at which the climate in the Himalaya is perfectly temperate, so that during the ascent a traveller from the plains of India meets with a complete change of climate, a change, too, which in the month of May, the period of my visit, is particularly grateful, the heat below being most oppressive and disagreeable.

As the elevation increases, the view from the road becomes more extensive. The low ranges of hills to the south and west, which had obstructed the view, are by degrees overtopped, and the plains beyond become visible. Soon after leaving Kalka the road crosses a low ridge, and enters a receding bay, or steeply sloping valley beyond, at the upper extremity of which, all along the crest, are seen the houses of Kussowlee. Winding round this valley, and continuing to rise, the stream in its centre is crossed about midway, and the ascent continues on the spur which forms its western boundary. This ridge is crossed close to the point where it is given off by the main range, and the road, winding round its most projecting part, enters a fir-wood, and, turning back very abruptly in an opposite direction, proceeds eastward along the northern face of the Kussowlee range.

VEGETATION.
May, 1847.

The plainward face of this range, along which the road from Kalka ascends, is quite devoid of forest. The lower part is covered with scattered jungle, to use a most expressive Indian word, of small shrubs, almost all of forms common in the plains. Carissa and Adhatoda are the most common, with Rottlera tinctoria, a plant which does not extend far into the plains, and a scandent leguminous shrub, apparently a species of Mucuna. Around the few houses which occur on the ascent, the bamboo occurs planted, as well as the mango, and other common cultivated trees of the Indian plains. At an elevation of about 4000 feet, an alteration in the vegetation begins to be perceptible. The thin jungle of plain shrubs disappears, the few shrubs which still occur, are generally scattered bushes of Hamiltonia, Nyctanthes, Prinsepia, Scutellaria, and Rubus, but the slopes are usually bare and grassy. Ferns and mosses appear in the crevices of the rocks, and the first individuals of those species which predominate in the temperate zone, are found in shady spots where they are sheltered from the sun. At the same elevation Euphorbia pentagona makes its appearance. This tree, which is confined to the hottest and driest slopes of the Himalaya, is remarkable for its peculiar shape, its thick fleshy five-angled branches, and its milky juice. It is nowhere to be met with in the plains of Upper India, but is common throughout the subtropical belt of the Himalaya from Kamaon westward.

ORIGIN OF KUSSOWLEE RIDGE.
May, 1847.

A glance at the map will serve to show that the great Himalayan mountain range, dividing the waters of the Sutlej from those of the Jumna, holds a nearly due east and west course in its middle part, but that at its western extremity it bends round to the south, and terminates in the Indian plain, not far from the town of Nahan, and that (among many others) the Kussowlee ridge is a branch from it, running in a north-westerly direction, and separating the waters of the more western branch of the Gambar, from the small tributaries of the Gagar, which find their way to the plains on the left hand.

The ridge upon which the station of Kussowlee is built, nowhere attains an elevation exceeding 7000 feet. It is very narrow, and often rocky and precipitous immediately below the crest on the plainward face, which dips very suddenly. The inner slope is somewhat less abrupt, and is covered from the summit to perhaps 1000 feet below it, with an open forest of a species of fir (Pinus longifolia), which, in general appearance and mode of growth, much resembles the Scotch fir, but is distinguished by the very great length of its leaves. The barracks for the troops and the houses of the residents are scattered over the northern slope, or perched on the narrow summit of the ridge.

The shrubby and herbaceous vegetation which occurs scattered among the fir-wood, is so markedly different from that which prevails at the base of the mountains, and during the greater part of the ascent, that the traveller appears suddenly transported into a new world. Instead of those tribes of the vegetable kingdom which abound in the torrid zone, all the forms which now meet the eye are characteristic of a temperate climate. The moderate elevation of the range, and its proximity to the plains, tend to lessen the rapidity of the diminution of temperature; and as the greater part of the ascent lies on a bare sunny slope, the tropical flora extends towards the summit, much farther than it does on ranges which rise higher, and are clothed with shady forest. During the ascent, therefore, the traveller, though often struck with the appearance of new forms, is still accompanied by many species familiar to him as natives of tropical jungles, but on passing to the northern face of the spur, the temperate region is at once entered, and most of the tropical forms disappear.

VIEW FROM KUSSOWLEE.
May, 1847.

As soon as the crest of the first slope of the Himalaya has been gained, the eye is naturally directed towards the mountains beyond, in order to ascertain their appearance and position, when viewed at a diminished distance and from so much more considerable an elevation than had previously been the case. Nor will the view from Kussowlee in favourable weather disappoint the traveller who is desirous of meeting with beautiful scenery. Immediately to the north lies a deep ravine, and beyond a single ridge is the wide valley of the Gambar, with numerous mountain spurs, which, from their comparatively lower level, are not prominently brought into view. To the south-east the main range dips abruptly to a level, nearly 1000 feet below what it attains in the station of Kussowlee itself, but again rises into the finely wooded hill on which has recently been built the Lawrence Asylum. Still further to the south are deep dells, with bare and rugged slaty mountains, scarcely at all wooded. In the months of May and June, when the atmosphere is generally extremely hazy, the prospect is limited to the ranges more immediately in the vicinity; but occasionally even in these months, as well as in the dry intervals of the rainy season, and during the delightful autumn weather which follows the termination of the rains, a much more distant prospect is opened, stretching far up the valley of the Sutlej, to the snow-clad peaks which, on either hand, hem in that river.

In the direction of the plains of India, the view is also very remarkable. The Kussowlee ridge so completely overtops the hills which intervene between it and the level country, that from its summit they interfere very little with the commanding view of the interminable flat which, like the ocean, stretches as far as vision extends. In the usual state of the atmosphere, especially in the hot season, a dense haze overhangs the plains, and entirely obscures their more distant parts; but in the cold season, as well as at day-break in summer, and especially after heavy rains, the misty vapours are entirely dissipated, and distant objects are defined with extreme precision.

Perhaps the most striking, because the most unexpected part of the view of the inner Himalaya, from Kussowlee, lies in the great depth of the valleys in the interior, and the distance of the next elevated range, of which the appearance of the mountains from the plains of India affords no indication. The extreme narrowness of the ridge, and the suddenness of the descent on both sides, is also very remarkable, and has, as already remarked, a very sensible effect on the climate, the heat of the lower mass being conveyed upwards, while the small extent of the knife-edge-like ridge, which rises above 6000 feet, exposes a minimum surface to the refrigerating influences of a rarefied atmosphere.

ROAD TO SIMLA.
May, 1847.

The distance from Kussowlee to Simla is by the road about thirty miles, though in a direct line the two places are not much more than half that distance apart. The road descends from Kussowlee almost to the level of the plains, crossing the Gambar at an elevation of a little less than 3000 feet, and ascends to Simla by following the ridge which runs parallel to that river on its right bank, the source of the Gambar being immediately below Simla. It would indeed be possible to reach Simla, by following the crest of the ridge, without descending at all into the valley of the river; but for this purpose it would be necessary to follow the Kussowlee ridge so far to the southward, in order to reach its junction with the main range, that the length of the journey would be very much greater than that now followed. The road, therefore, only keeps the ridge for a very short distance, or as far as the "col," or lower part immediately north of Kussowlee, which is quite bare of trees. It then turns abruptly to the left, descending on the north face of a spur, at first in a winding manner, afterwards for a short distance along a shady ravine, and finally through a good deal of cultivation, at an elevation of between 4000 and 5000 feet, to a considerable stream which runs towards the north to join the Gambar. The greatest part of the descent is bare of trees, except along the banks of the little stream, which are covered with a belt of wood. The cultivated lands are extensive, occupying a flattish terraced slope, such as is of very general occurrence in the mountains, the fields being adapted for the growth of rain crops, principally of rice, with a few fields of ginger and cardamoms.

SABATHU.
May, 1847.

After reaching the stream just mentioned, which is crossed by a ford, a suspension bridge, for which the piers are partly built, having never been erected, the road continues to descend parallel to it towards the north, passing under the military station of Sabathu, which, at the elevation of 4200 feet, occupies the crest of the ridge immediately to the east of the little river, a very short distance before its junction with the Gambar.

After passing Sabathu the road turns to the right, round the projecting ridge of the range, and descends rapidly to the valley of the Gambar river, which is crossed by a good suspension bridge at an elevation of 2700 feet above the level of the sea. It then ascends by a steep and laborious path to Haripur, a small village about 500 feet above the bed of the river. The Gambar river, where the road crosses it, flows through a narrow rocky ravine, somewhat picturesque, but quite devoid of trees. This, however, is not the general character of the river-bed, which is frequently wide, with a broad gravelly channel, and sloping though often rather steep mountains on either side. There is occasionally even a strip of flat land, capable of cultivation along the banks; and where such is the case, the water of the river is carried off in artificial channels, for the purpose of irrigation.

After attaining the crest of the ridge, and passing through the village of Haripur, the road follows the ridge parallel to the river Gambar, nearly all the way to Simla, not always on the very crest or top, which would entail a great many unnecessary ascents and descents, but generally a little on one side or other of the hill, as circumstances may render most convenient; at one time ascending rather steeply, but more generally rather gently as far as Sairi, the last stage on the way to Simla, beyond which the road is pretty level, nearly to the bottom of the mountain on which Simla stands.

The valley of the river Gambar may be regarded as an excellent specimen of a smaller Himalayan river, draining a large extent of country, and discharging its waters independently into the plains, though not, like the first-class rivers, deriving its origin from the snowy mountains. The southern border of the basin of the Gambar, is of course the main chain of the South Sutlej Himalaya; and the whole of the country between the Jutog spur, which leaves that chain at Simla, and the Kussowlee ridge, the origin of which I have already detailed, is drained by the Gambar and its tributaries. This includes an extent of country of not less than 1000 square miles, the bounding ranges of which have, throughout the greater part of their extent, an elevation varying from 8000 to about 6000 feet. Both the Kussowlee and Jutog ranges dip at last rather abruptly, so that it is only during a very short distance that they are below the last-mentioned elevation. This elevation, which is quite temperate, is however by no means that of the whole superficies of the basin, the bed of the river having, at its débouchure into the Sutlej, an elevation of not more than 2000 feet, and rising very gently till near its source immediately below Simla. The lateral ridges, which traverse the basin in every direction, are in general less elevated; not exceeding 5000 feet in their upper part, and sinking to 3000 or even lower, so that the mean elevation of the whole basin cannot be estimated, I should think, higher than 3500 feet.

BASIN OF GAMBAR VEGETATION.
May, 1847.

Such being the case, it is not surprising that the general appearance of the vegetation should be tropical, and closely approximate to that of the low hills on the very exterior of the Himalaya. This is in general the case. The hills, which are generally grassy, and, though steep and frequently stony, rarely rocky or precipitous, are quite devoid of forest, or even brushwood, except in a few shady nooks with a northern exposure, and favourably situated with respect to moisture; the shrubby vegetation being thin and scattered. This total want of forest, is unquestionably caused by the dryness of the climate during the greater part of the year, which is to a certain degree increased beyond what it would otherwise be, by the proximity of the surrounding mountain ranges, to which a large proportion of the rain-clouds are no doubt attracted.

In the shady ravines north of Kussowlee, where there is the greatest approach to forest, a species of laurel is the most conspicuous tree. On the more exposed hills, Falconeria insignis and Euphorbia pentagona occur, scattered as small trees, and one small wood of Ægle marmelos is passed close to the village of Haripur. The most common shrubs are Adhatoda Vasica, Carissa, and Zizyphus Jujuba, species universal in the plains of upper India; Colebrookea oppositifolia, Grislea, Bergera, Roylea and Bœhmeria nivea, all species which are throughout the north-west Himalaya, characteristic of the lower and drier parts of the outer ranges. Two Labiate shrubs, Plectranthus rugosus and Meriandra strobilifera, are particularly abundant on the slopes between Haripur and Sairi, and strongly mark the aridity of the climate.

The herbaceous vegetation, being principally of annual growth, approaches still more closely to the plains types. At the season of my journey in May, the extreme drought had dried up almost all the smaller plants, but during, and immediately after the rainy season the herbage is very luxuriant. The steep slopes are then covered with a uniform herbage of tall grasses, which is in many places cut and preserved for hay, by the inhabitants of the scattered villages in the valleys. The most prevailing grasses are a tall sweet-scented Cymbopogon and Heteropogon contortus. A species of Kalanchoë, a large and conspicuous plant, with thick fleshy leaves, is very common, and the superb Gloriosa or Methonica is by no means rare.

On the highest ridges in the valley, at elevations of 5000 feet and upwards, there are frequent approaches to the temperate flora, the shady slopes on northern exposures being frequently covered with small patches of brushwood, containing species of Berberis, Rubus, Spiræa, etc., and numerous herbaceous species, of forms common at Simla. These, however, are quite exceptional, though no doubt with a very little more humidity the shrubby vegetation would rapidly extend, and under its shelter many small plants would be able to grow, which are now, when they attempt to vegetate, destroyed by the scorching heat of the sun.

It must also not be forgotten, that notwithstanding the general tendency to a tropical flora, the natural result of the low elevation and great aridity of these hills, a portion of the vegetation even at the lowest levels consists of plants of European forms, such as characterize the temperate vegetation of the Himalaya. I do not here refer to what may be called the cold-weather vegetation of the plains of north-western India, at which season, the temperature of the air approaching to that of the summer of the temperate zone, a considerable number of European plants make their appearance in corn-fields and along the banks of water-courses; as, for example, Veronica Anagallis and agrestis, Anagallis, Medicago, Melilotus, Potentilla supina, Juncus bufonius, Arenaria serpyllifolia, Heliotropium Europæum, and many others. These naturally occur at the same season, in the low valleys among the hills, in similar situations. The circumstance to which I desire to advert, is the occurrence at very low levels among the mountains, during the hot and rainy seasons, of species belonging to genera characteristic of temperate climates, and which therefore are the prevailing forms at considerable elevations on the Himalaya. As instances, I may adduce the occurrence in the valley of the Gambar, at elevations not exceeding 3000 feet, of species of Thalictrum, Fragaria, Rosa, Rubus, Berberis, &c., &c. This remarkable fact has been ascribed by Jacquemont[1] to the obscure influence of the mountains; and as the genera just enumerated never occur in the plains of Upper India, it appears evident that the mountainous nature of the country must be viewed as an essential element in the reasons for their descent. These, with some others which also occur at low levels in the Himalaya, appear to be in all parts of the continent of India those genera of temperate climates, which descend to the lowest altitudes. Some of them were found by Dr. Hooker on Parasnâth, a hill in upper Behar, the elevation of which does not exceed 4000 feet; and they are all natives of moderate elevations on the Nilgherries and in Ceylon, as well as on the Khasya mountains in eastern Bengal.

ASCENT TO SIMLA.
May, 1847.

SIMLA.
May, 1847.

The ridge which runs from Haripur to Sairi, parallel to the river Gambar, is a branch from the Jutog spur, nearly north of Simla, a ridge which is given off by the main South Sutlej chain in Simla itself, and which runs directly north to the Sutlej river. The road, after following this ridge till within a few miles of Simla, leaves it on the left hand, to descend into a small stony ravine; after crossing which it mounts abruptly a very steep spur, ascending at least 1500 feet to gain the crest of the ridge, and enter Simla at its north-western extremity.

The hill station of Simla, which was originally selected as a sanatarium, or suitable residence for the servants of Government, or other Europeans, whose health had been impaired by disease, or by too long residence in a tropical climate, has of late years, in consequence of the political state of north-western India, and of the increasing number of retired officers, and of gentlemen unconnected with the public service, who have made it their residence, become a place of great importance. Besides an extensive bazaar or collection of shops, which may now almost be designated a small native town, Simla contains nearly 400 houses, scattered along the crest of different mountain ranges. Its situation is a most favourable one, on the main range of mountains south of the Sutlej river, at a point where a massive peak rises to a height of 8100 feet, and on the nearest part of the ridge to the plains of India, which is sufficiently elevated, well wooded, and situated favourably with regard to water. The greater part of the station is built on the main range, partly surrounding the peak of Jako, and partly on the ridge running north from it, at an elevation of about 7000 feet, as far as a smaller culminating point of the range, which is by the inhabitants named Prospect Point. At this point the main range turns sharply to the west, and the station is continued for nearly a mile on a spur which runs towards the north, passing through the station of Jutog. From the scattered position of the houses, the extent of Simla is much more considerable than the bare statement of the number of houses might lead one to suppose. The northern ridge extends almost four miles, and the circuit of Jako, by the principal road, which is from 500 to 1000 feet below the summit, measures five miles.

In consequence of the sudden elevation of the mountain range at the place where Simla has been built, there is a most complete and surprising change in the vegetation and general appearance of the scenery. During the last ascent on the road from the plains this is sufficiently perceptible, although from the great ravages which the proximity of so large a population has made in the oak woods, only a few stunted bushes are now left on the southern exposure. Between the plains and Simla the hills are totally devoid of trees, but immediately on gaining the top of the ridge on which the station is built, we enter a fine forest, which covers all the broader parts of the range, especially the slopes which have a northern aspect, stretching down on these in many places to the bottom of the valleys, fully 2000 feet.

OAK FOREST.
May, 1847.

PINES OF SIMLA.
May, 1847.

The nature of the forest varies a good deal with the exposure and with the quality of the soil. By far the greater part consists of an oak and a rhododendron, both small evergreen trees, rarely exceeding thirty or forty feet, with wide-spreading arms and rugged twisted branches. A species of Andromeda is also very common, and a holly, an Euonymus, Rhamnus, and Benthamia, are the other more common trees, if we except the Coniferæ, of which four species occur. Of these, Pinus longifolia is common at the western or lower extremity of the station, and prevails, to the exclusion of any other tree, on the dry sunny spurs which run towards the south, at elevations from 7000 to 5000 feet. This species is, of all the Indian pines known to me (except its near ally P. Khasyana), that which is capable of enduring the most heat, and at the same time the greatest variation in amount of moisture; as it is found at elevations of not more than 1000 feet above the level of the sea, equally in the hot humid valleys of Sikkim, where it enjoys a perpetual vapour-bath, and on the dry sandstone hills of the upper Punjab, on which rain hardly ever falls. It is only, however, at low elevations, where the mean temperature is high, that it is capable of supporting a great amount of humidity, for in the damp climates of the Himalaya it is entirely wanting, except in the deepest valleys; and even in the drier districts it is always observed to select the sunnier, and therefore warmer exposures. Its upper limit is usually about 7000 feet above the level of the sea, though on Jako at Simla a few stunted trees rise as high as 7700 feet.

Pinus excelsa is also a very common species at Simla, particularly on the southern face of Mount Jako, which is the highest part of the ridge. Abies Smithiana, the third coniferous tree, is exceedingly rare, a few trees only occurring in a shady ravine facing the west; while the deodar, the fourth species, is common on the southern and western slopes of Jako, above 7000 feet; and again in shady groves at the bottom of the valleys on both sides of the ridge, as low as 5000 feet. This beautiful tree, the cedar of the Indian mountains, seems limited to the western half of the Himalayan range, extending from the most westerly part of Nipal, as far as the mountains of Affghanistan. It was first described by Roxburgh from specimens sent to him from Kamaon, at a time when the western Himalaya was almost inaccessible to Europeans, under the name by which it is known to the inhabitants of that province, as well as in Kashmir. It is, however, singularly enough, not known by that name in the Simla hills, where it is called Kélu; another conifer, Cupressus torulosa, a rare tree in the district, having usurped the name, as well as the sacred character, of deodar.

In the thick woods of Simla, a large white monkey, the Langúr of the natives, is very common. These animals move about in large flocks, in which may be seen individuals of all sizes and ages, and seldom remain more than a few hours in one place. They are in constant motion, leaping from bough to bough and from tree to tree, chattering constantly; and, notwithstanding their great size, are in general harmless, though ready enough to defend themselves if assailed.

The forest extends in parts close up to the peak of Jako, which has an elevation of 8130 feet. The very summit, however, which is a short flat ridge, and a considerable part of the east and south face, are bare and grassy, or covered with scattered shrubs. The more common shrubby forms of the vegetation of the temperate zone, are Salix, Rosa, Rubus, Lonicera, Viburnum, Berberis, Indigofera, and Prinsepia, all, except the two last, quite European. Indigofera forms a remarkable exception, and one well worthy of note, as the genus is a very tropical one, although its shrubby species are particularly abundant throughout the whole of the western Himalaya. These shrubby species, however, constitute a particular section of the genus, very distinct in habit, and in the large size and bright colour of the flower, from the more ordinary forms, and they are confined to the drier parts of the mountains, being quite wanting in the humid climate of Darjeeling and Khasya, and almost entirely so in the mountains of the Peninsula.

VEGETATION OF THE SPRING MONTHS.
May, 1847.

The herbaceous vegetation of the spring months quite corresponds, in the temperate nature of its forms, with what has been found to be the case with the trees and shrubs; but during the rainy season, as has been well pointed out by Dr. Royle in his valuable essay on the distribution of Himalayan plants, this is much less markedly the case. At the commencement of spring, in April (for March is still too cold for much vegetation), the weather being generally bright, though with occasional heavy showers, the earliest flowers are species of Viola, Fragaria, Geranium, Veronica, Valeriana, and dandelion. From April, as summer advances, the temperature gradually rises, till towards the end of June, when the rainy season commences. These months are generally dry, and if no rain falls the heat is sometimes considerable, the thermometer rising as high as 80° in the shade. Still the flora is almost entirely temperate, the early spring plants being succeeded by many others of European families, principally Ranunculaceæ, Rosaceæ, Labiatæ, Stellatæ, Polygonaceæ, Epilobiaceæ, Primulaceæ, etc. I can scarcely enumerate a single spring flowering plant which does not belong to an European family, unless Arum be an exception, which it can hardly be considered, the flowers only being displayed during May and June, while the leaves do not make their appearance until after the rainy season has commenced. Few species are, however, identical with those of Europe, except Stellaria media, Cerastium vulgatum, Taraxacum officinale, Verbascum Thapsus, Thymus Serpyllum, and Poa annua.

FLORA OF RAINY SEASON.
July, 1847.

PEAK OF JAKO.
July, 1847.

The rainy season generally commences about the 20th of June, or between that date and the end of the month, and continues till the middle or end of September, with occasional intermissions, rarely exceeding a week at a time. During the rains the atmosphere is exceedingly moist, dense fogs usually prevailing when rain does not fall. The rain-fall is probably more considerable at Simla than in the lower ranges, which are nearer the plains, for it has been observed that ranges of 7-8000 feet (which are generally for this reason well wooded), attract much moisture, and the peak of Jako and other parts of Simla are frequently observed from the stations of Sabathu and Kussowlee, to be covered with dense clouds or mist, at times when at the latter places the weather is bright and clear.

The commencement of the rainy season is the signal in the mountains, as it is very universally throughout India, wherever that season is well marked, for the appearance of a very vigorous and luxuriant growth of plants of annual growth, the seeds (or rootstocks) of which had been lying dormant in the soil awaiting the access of heavy rain. At Simla, as elsewhere in the temperate region of the Himalaya, we find at this season numerous species of Balsams, Acanthaceæ, Orchideæ, and Labiatæ, several Gentians and Cichoraceæ, a great many grasses and Cyperaceæ, and species of Parnassia, Drosera, Pedicularis, Roscoea, Dipsacus, Thalictrum, Urtica, etc., etc. Some of these are quite European genera, while others, as Roscoea, are interesting as belonging to orders whose maxima occur in very humid climates. The Labiatæ of the rainy season are mostly species of Plectranthus and Elsholtzia, both quite Indian genera, and very extensively distributed in mountainous districts. Balsams are quite an Indian order, and they seem everywhere, as has already been remarked by Dr. Royle and by Dr. Wight, to abound in humid shady places, either in dense forest or on the stony banks of mountain streams, in the drier districts only during the rainy season, but in more humid countries more or less throughout the year. The Orchideæ of Simla are entirely terrestrial, the dryness and cold of the winter months being greater than are compatible with the occurrence of epiphytical species of this natural order, and for the same reason, I presume, Melastomaceæ, so abundant in the Eastern Himalaya, are quite wanting.

Among the many advantages of situation by which Simla is characterized, one of the most fortunate is its position on a part of the mountain range which lies transversely to the ordinary direction of the chain, so that the view towards the plains of India, as well as up the Sutlej valley, is very much more extensive than would be obtained, had the station been situated in a less favourable position. This advantage is further enhanced by the sudden rise in elevation of the chain, which enables a resident at Simla to overlook in the direction of the plains the continuation of the range which would otherwise obstruct the view. Towards the interior of the mountains, this advantage is not possessed by Simla; for the ridge of Mahasu, which rises 1000 feet higher than the peak of Jako, obscures at least half of the snowy range, the view being limited in that direction to the course of the valley of the Sutlej, and to the mountains north of that river.

VIEW FROM THE PEAK OF JAKO.
July, 1847.

With all these advantages of situation, the view from the peak of Jako is one of the most agreeable and diversified, which occur in any part of the Himalaya; although, from the rather too level top of the mountain, and the intrusion of the forest almost to the very summit, the whole panorama cannot be embraced at once. Immediately under the eye are the numerous spurs and ridges covered with scattered houses, and the deep ravines which terminate the steep slopes below the station; towards the plains, the whole valley of the Gambar is seen, with the stations of Sabathu and Kussowlee, the church and esplanade of the former appearing low down almost within a stone's throw, while the brilliant white of the houses of Kussowlee, more nearly on a level with the eye, sparkle in the sunbeams. The ridge of Kussowlee in one place excludes the view of the plains, but to the right they may be seen stretching away in the distance, and only recognizable at last by the track of the Sutlej river, which, from the very remarkable curve close to its exit from the mountains, may be traced as far as vision can extend, a distance of 116 miles[2]. To the north a valley stretches from Simla as far as the Sutlej river, distant about fifteen miles, so direct that the greater part of it is seen, though the river itself is concealed. East of north a long partially wooded ridge, about four miles distant at its nearest point, running parallel to the valley just mentioned, excludes the view of the nearer part of the Sutlej valley; but the lofty ranges north of that river, covered with dense forest, and backed by masses of brilliant snow, close in the view in that direction. Due east lies the Mahasu ridge, covered on the Simla slopes with a dense forest of deodar; and to the south, across the valley of the Giri, towards which numerous rugged ridges run, is the mountain called the Chor, the highest peak of the range which separates the Giri from the Tons, the crest of which is upwards of 12,000 feet in height.

From the peak of Jako, the serpentine course of the range, which prevails universally throughout the Himalaya, may be well traced, as the eye of the spectator, following the direct course of the ridge, can observe numerous turns in its course, each of which, from the great foreshortening, appears much more abrupt than it really is. At each curve the range rises into a peak, while the intermediate portions are lower and excavated into "cols" or passes. In the concavity of each bend of the range is situated the head of a valley, numerous small spurs dividing the different ravines which unite to form it; while on the convex side, from the high portion of the ridge, is given off a branch of the range, forming a separation between two adjacent valleys, each of which occupies a concavity in the main range of mountain.

On my arrival at Simla on the 25th of May, I found that Major A. Cunningham, of the Bengal Engineers, and Captain Henry Strachey, of the 66th Regiment N.I., were to be my fellow-travellers, the former having been appointed the head of the mission. As Captain Strachey had to travel from Dinapore, it was evident that some time would elapse before he would arrive at Simla, nor was it till the beginning of August that the completion of the necessary preliminaries rendered it possible for us to commence our journey. I took advantage of this delay to make myself as far as possible acquainted with the physical features and vegetation of the surrounding country, though the necessary preparations for the approaching journey occupied a good deal of time, and the commencement of the rainy season rendered travelling difficult, and even out-of-door exercise unpleasant. I have already attempted to convey an idea of the general physical aspect of the scenery, which, after a short residence has made one familiar with the structure of the ridges, appears very simple. Situated on the dividing range, by which the waters of the Giri, a tributary of the Jumna, on the left, are separated from those of the tributaries of the Sutlej on the right, the spectator looks into two of the immense basins into which the Himalaya is divided by transverse ranges running parallel to the great rivers; and after a short time he finds that the chaos of mountains, which at first perplexed the eye and confused the mind, gradually resolves itself into a definite shape, each ridge being capable of being referred to its parent, and that in its turn to a branch of the main chain. From his commanding position he can also see that the main range is generally more elevated than its branches, and that each chain, by a succession of sudden sinkings, diminishes in elevation, each peak being lower than its predecessor. Nowhere in the wide tract of country visible is there the least approach to a system of parallel ridges, such as is indicated by the distant view of these mountains. On the contrary, it is seen that the great ranges are, though very irregularly, perpendicular to the general direction of the mountain mass, and that it is only the shorter spurs which have a general uniformity of direction.

STRUCTURE OF THE MOUNTAIN RANGES.
July, 1847.

Nor could I find in the structure of the mountains around Simla any confirmation of the view entertained by Humboldt of the sudden elevation of the Himalaya out of a vast fissure in the external crust of the earth. However plausible such a view might appear when the Himalaya is contemplated as a whole (on a map), without any portion of its extent being under the eye, I found it, on the spot, quite impossible to conceive in what way, after such a sudden elevation, any power in the least analogous to existing forces could have excavated out of the solid rock those numerous valleys, so various in direction, so rugged in outline, and so vast in dimensions, which now furrow the mountain mass.

On the contrary, the conclusion has been forced upon me that these mountains have emerged extremely gradually from an ocean, of the existence of which, at very various levels, the most evident traces are, I think, discoverable. The present configuration of the surface must, I do not doubt, have been given to it during periods of rest, or of very slow elevation, the action of the sea upon submerged rocks being so very superficial that no denudation takes place at any great depth. During the period of emergence of the Himalaya, from the great length of the present valleys, which extend between parallel ranges far into the interior, the coast must have borne a strong resemblance to that of Norway at the present day, numerous promontories projecting far into the sea, and separated from one another by narrow and deep bays.

GEOLOGY.

The geological structure of the Himalaya between Simla and the plains is not easily discovered by the cursory observer. The general basis of the mountains is clay-slate, occasionally very micaceous, passing into a coarse sandstone, but here and there limestone occurs interstratified. The dip is extremely variable, and the rocks, whatever their age, are evidently highly metamorphosed. The tertiary formations, so well illustrated by Falconer and Cautley, extend all along the base of the mountains, and penetrate in some places far into the valleys, for certain rocks in the neighbourhood of Sabathu have been indicated by Major Vicary, which appear to be of the same age, or perhaps of a still older tertiary epoch.

CHAPTER II.

Leave Simla—Mahasu Ridge—Pine Forest—Summit of Mahasu—Vegetation of Northern Slope—Fagu—Theog—Mattiana—Cultivated Valley—Nagkanda—Ascent of Hattu—Forest of Pine and Oak—Vegetation of Summit—View from top of Mountain—Plainward slopes bare of forest, while those facing the interior are well wooded—Cultivation at 9500 feet—Descent from Nagkanda towards Sutlej—Damp shady Ravine densely wooded—Kotgarh—Cultivation—Rapid Descent—Change of Climate—Tropical Vegetation—Rampur—Swing-bridge—Diurnal fluctuations in level of River—Gaora—Serahan—Tranda—Western boundary of Kunawar.

On the 2nd of August, 1847, every necessary preparation having been completed, and the officers of the mission having received the instructions of the Governor-General to proceed to Ladakh, and thence to take severally such direction as they should consider most conducive to the increase of our knowledge of these countries, Major Cunningham, Captain Strachey, and myself left Simla.

DEPARTURE FROM SIMLA.
August, 1847.

The route selected as most eligible, in order to reach Hangarang and Piti, to which we had been instructed in the first place to proceed, lay up the course of the Sutlej river, through Kunawar. The advanced period of the season, at which almost constant rain might be expected, rendered the river route, on which at most stages tolerable shelter is obtainable, preferable to that by the Pabar valley, and the Bruang (or Borendo) pass, which otherwise we should have preferred, from its passing through a more elevated tract of country.

From Simla the first day's journey towards the interior of the mountains is usually to Fagu, a distance of fourteen miles. Here, and for several stages farther, as far as the road lies through British territory, there are houses (bungalows, as they are termed in India) provided by Government for the accommodation of travellers, upon the payment of a small fixed sum per diem. Though often in bad repair, and therefore very uncomfortable in rainy weather, these houses (which occur also between Simla and the plains) are a very great convenience, as they enable tourists to dispense with the carriage of tents.

The difficulty of making a start, from the small number of porters procurable for our baggage, was so great that it was some time after dark before I reached the Fagu bungalow, in the midst of an extremely heavy fall of rain, which had commenced about sunset, after a fair though lowering day. The road from Simla to Fagu follows throughout the course of the main range, not always on the very crest of the ridge, but seldom at any great distance from it. After passing round the peak of Jako, it turns northward, and descends abruptly about 500 feet, to a low part of the ridge, elevated about 6800 feet, and quite bare of trees, the micaceous slaty rock being in many places exposed. The ridge continues in a direction for nearly four miles, varying very little in level, only one short and rather steep ascent occurring to a peak where a spur branches off to the south, beyond which the road again slightly descends. About half-a-mile to the north of this little ridge, on the slope of the hill below the road, there is a small cluster of trees of Cupressus torulosa, a species of cypress, one of the rarer conifers of the Himalaya; the most favourite situation of which seems to be on very steep mountains in the interior, at elevations of from seven to nine thousand feet. It was found abundantly by Major Madden[3] on Shali, a peak twenty miles east of Simla, and it appears to extend thence west as far as Simla, where it occurs in several places on hot, dry, and very bare rocky hills, as low as six thousand feet.

About four miles from Simla, a sudden increase in the elevation of the range takes place, and at the same time it turns abruptly towards the south-east. The road ascends the steep face of the ridge, in a series of zigzags, rather steeply, with a deep ravine on either hand, that to the right bare, while on the left there is first a thicket of rose and willow bushes, and further on an oak-wood, of a species (Quercus floribunda of Wallich) different from that common at Simla, and indicative of greater elevation, though here growing with Rhododendron and Andromeda, common Simla trees. When near the top of the ascent, the road bends rapidly to the right, keeping on the south face of the ridge, and passing under but close to a small house, built on the very crest of the ridge, at an elevation of about 8000 feet. Close to this bungalow, which occupies a most excellent site, forest commences, and the road runs for a mile through fine trees of deodar and spruce (Abies Smithiana), generally on the very crest of the ridge, looking down towards the east into a deep and broad valley. Right across this valley, north-east, rises the remarkable peak of Shali, a bold rocky mass sloping gently to the south, while to the north, which seems to overhang the Sutlej valley, it is cut off very abruptly. This highly beautiful mountain, the termination of a northerly spur, given off close to Mattiana, is hardly visible from Simla, its top only being seen from some of the more northerly houses.

MAHASU RIDGE.
August, 1847.

From an elevation of about 8000 feet at its north-west end, the Mahasu ridge rises, at first gradually, to at least 9000 feet, and as it is throughout well wooded, the road along it is extremely beautiful. On the earlier part of the ridge, the forest consists chiefly of pine, P. excelsa and Abies Smithiana being abundant, and more especially the deodar, which, on the slope facing the west, may be seen in the greatest profusion, thousands of young trees springing up in dense masses, on the slopes which have been bared by the axe, or still more destructively by the fires of the hill-men.

After about five miles of what, in the Himalaya, may be called tolerably level road, another sudden ascent follows, the road inclining rather to the northern slope of the mountain, and entering a dense forest of large massive pines, intermixed with two species of sycamore, and a fine cherry, which relieve the otherwise too gloomy foliage of the coniferous trees. A magnificent climbing vine, which attaches itself to the tallest trees, rising in light green coils round their trunks, and falling in graceful festoons from the branches high over head, adds much to the elegance of the scene, and renders it, in the expressive words of Griffith, who was familiar with the rich vegetation of the humid forests of the Eastern Himalaya, the only true Himalayan forest of the western mountains.

SUMMIT OF MAHASU.
August, 1847.

On this ascent the road rises to about 9000 feet, the crest of the Mahasu ridge being, according to Captain Herbert, 9200 feet. The large size and dense shade of the trees, and the abundance of Abies Smithiana, of the sycamore, and of the gigantic vine, give the forest a totally different appearance from that of Simla, and the undergrowth presents also a considerable amount of novelty; a species of currant, a fine Spiræa, Indigofera atropurpurea, and fine species of Rosa and Rubus, forming thickets under the tall trees. This forest, indeed, from its dense shade, and great humidity, exhibits a much greater contrast to the ordinary temperate vegetation of the Himalaya, than is usually observed below 9000 feet, at which elevation the upper temperate, or subalpine vegetation, begins fairly to predominate over that which is prevalent from 5000 to 9000 feet.

On reaching the summit of the steep ascent, the road again gains the crest of the ridge, which consists of a succession of rounded knolls, covered with grass, and quite bare of trees, the forest rising almost, but not quite, to the top. On the very summit of one of the first of these knolls, is a small wooden shrine or temple, of a form common in the hills; the top of a mountain, or the summit of any very steep ascent, being usually selected as a proper spot for the erection of a sacred building by Indian mountaineers, in whose superstition every hill and grove is tenanted by supernatural beings.

POTATO CULTIVATION.
August, 1847.

The steep ascent on the northern shoulder of Mahasu, from 8000 feet, and even lower, to above 9000 feet, is the great seat of the potato cultivation in the neighbourhood of Simla. The steepest slopes seem to be preferred for this purpose, if they have only a sufficiency of soil, which is very light, loose, and stony. The undergrowth of shrubs is cleared away entirely on the spot where potatoes are planted, but the pine forest is only partially thinned, the tall straight trunks allowing of a free circulation of air below, while the thick branches above afford the amount of shade requisite for the crop. The potatoes are planted in rows in May; and, early in June, when the plants have attained a height of a few inches, the soil is earthed up round their stems in low ridges. The rains commence in the latter part of June, and during their continuance nothing is done to the crop, beyond keeping it clear of weeds. The steepness of the slope seems to afford a sufficient drainage to prevent any injury from the great rain-fall and constant humidity. The growth of the plants is exceedingly luxuriant, the foliage being tall and bushy. By the middle of October, or after the close of the rains, the potatoes are dug and ready for market, supplying not only the station of Simla, but being despatched in great quantities to the plains of India, where the potato is only cultivated as a winter crop, and where, therefore, during the cold months, none are otherwise procurable.

On the very summit of the Mahasu ridge, there are a few trees of Quercus semicarpifolia, the alpine oak of the western Himalaya, an European-looking and partially deciduous species, and of Picea Webbiana, or Pindrow, the silver fir of the Indian mountains, a dark sombre-looking pine, abundant in the forests of the interior. These trees may be adopted as the characteristics of the subalpine zone, in every part of which, from 9000 to about 12,000 feet, which is the highest limit of tree vegetation in the Western Himalaya, they abound. On Mahasu they are entirely confined to the crest of the ridge, and form no part of the forest below.

FAGU.
August, 1847.

The descent from the top of Mahasu to the Fagu bungalow, is at first abrupt, the road leaving the ridge to enter the forest on the northern face, and winding down, after a few hundred yards of bare stony slope, among dense forest, among which it continues for a couple of miles, rising at last rather steeply to the crest of the ridge at the point where it resumes a northerly direction. Here the bungalow of Fagu has been built, at an elevation of 8200 feet, at the very base of the steep mountain ridge behind, which rises abruptly, to a height of six or seven hundred feet. The bungalow faces the north-east, and commands a most superb view of the snowy range beyond the Sutlej, with occasional glimpses of the Jumno-Gangetic snows on the right hand.

On my arrival at Fagu, in the midst of a pelting fall of rain, I found the bungalow already occupied by my fellow-travellers, and before a bright and comfortable fire I soon forgot the discomfort of my wet ride, which indeed was not to be complained of, as it was only what might fairly have been expected in the middle of the rainy season. The confusion among our baggage, however, was so great, from its arriving irregularly and being set down hurriedly by the drenched porters, anxious to escape as soon as possible to shelter, that it was not without difficulty I procured the necessary change of clothing.

The morning of the 3rd of August was densely foggy, but without rain, and it was unanimously decided that it would be advisable to push on to the next stage, Mattiana, a distance of fifteen miles. Our anticipations of fair weather were unfortunately disappointed, for it began to rain heavily before ten o'clock, and continued to do so with little intermission till nearly two, when it cleared, and the remainder of the day was fine.

GIRI VALLEY.
August, 1847.

The whole day's journey lay along the ridge, which scarcely fell below 7500 feet, and nowhere rose above 9000 feet. Fagu is situated immediately above the valley of the river Giri, a large mountain stream, the most western tributary of the Jumna. A road across the Jumnetic valleys to Massuri descends abruptly towards that river, descending more than 5000 feet in little more than five miles, and crossing the river by a bridge at an elevation of 3000 feet. The mountains to the right, which dip into the valley of the Giri, are bare of forest, with a good deal of cultivation in small terraced fields on the steep sunny slopes, while scattered houses, scarcely collected into villages, are seen here and there among the fields. On the left hand, again, the deep valley which runs towards the Sutlej is full of forest, not rising however to the ridge, which is bare, or lined only with scattered jungle of Indigofera, Desmodium, Spiræa, roses, and brambles. It seems to be a constant rule that the depressions of the ridges are bare and open, while the more elevated portions are covered with forest. Probably the cause of this is the greater humidity of the higher slopes, which attract the rain-clouds, while the lower ranges are dry. The currents of air which sweep up the valleys may also in part be the cause of the bareness of the ridges opposite their summits.

THEOG.
August, 1847.

At Theog, nearly eight miles from Fagu, there is a fort belonging to a Rana, or hill chieftain, and a small village, with a good many fields. The cultivation at this great elevation, for the fields reach to at least 8000 feet, is principally of barley, which is sown in early spring, and reaped in the beginning or middle of June, according to the season. Beyond Theog the road rises a little, and is covered with brushwood on the left hand, but bare on the right. The highest part of the road is about two miles beyond Theog, and has an elevation of about 9000 feet. The northern face of this hill is prettily wooded with the holly-leaved oak, and covered with numerous large angular boulders, whose origin is rather difficult to explain. After passing this little hill the ridge sweeps round to the left in a semicircle, ascending very gradually and gently to a low ridge, from the crest of which the bungalow of Mattiana comes into sight, at a distance of nearly two miles, the whole of which is a gentle descent. The latter part of the road has a direction nearly due north, and the bungalow is situated in a very commanding position on the top of a little eminence, a quarter of a mile from the village, which occupies the slope of the hill facing the south-east, at a considerably lower level. The hills on both sides of the bungalow, which has an elevation of 8200 feet, are extremely steep, and descend at least 2000 feet. The valley on the left, tributary to the Sutlej, is well wooded, but that on the right is rather bare, with only a little wood here and there in the ravines, and on the more shady exposures.

MATTIANA.
August, 1847.

The slopes below Mattiana are covered with numerous scattered houses and a good deal of cultivation. A little rice is grown during the rains, but the principal crops are barley and some wheat, sown in spring and reaped before the commencement of the rains. The opium poppy, also a spring crop, is cultivated to some extent in the lower part of the valley. It is sown in early spring, and the opium is gathered in June.

On the morning of the 4th of August we resumed our journey, proceeding as far as Nagkanda, about thirteen miles. Nagkanda, like Mattiana and Fagu, lies exactly on the crest of the main range, south of the Sutlej, and it is possible to proceed to it by a footpath along the ridge. The ascent, however, immediately north of Mattiana, where the ridge rises suddenly to nearly 10,000 feet, is so steep, rocky, and difficult, that it is quite impassable for horses, and so nearly for loaded men, that a more easy, though somewhat longer road is always preferred. I have more than once walked from Nagkanda to Mattiana by the upper road, and found it quite easy on foot, and so very beautiful as to be well worth a visit. The ascent from Mattiana is exceedingly steep, and facing nearly due south, very bare, stony, and barren; but when the higher portion of the ridge has been gained, the remainder of the road lies through beautiful forest, with much fine scenery—the earlier part steep and rocky, the remainder nearly level, till the last descent, and generally on the north face of the range.

VALLEY BEFORE MATTIANA.
August, 1847.

On our present journey, however, we took the usual road, which descends from Mattiana to the valley immediately on the east, crosses it, and passes over a long spur on its eastern side, into another valley, the head of which is immediately below Nagkanda, to which place the road ascends, at last very steeply. The ravine immediately below Mattiana is crossed at an elevation probably a little above 6000 feet, as the trees of the temperate region, such as the holly-leaved and woolly oak, Andromeda, and Rhododendron, continue to the very bottom of the descent; and Pinus excelsa is common on the eastern slope, a little way above the stream, which descends very abruptly, like all the hill torrents near their sources, along a rocky channel, filled with large boulders. On the banks of the little stream there were a few trees of an Acacia, common in the lower forests, which Mr. Bentham considers a hairy variety of the Albizzia Julibrissin of western Asia. I observed also a Laurel, an Olive, Rhus, and the common Toon (Cedrela Toona), all indicative of the commencement of a subtropical vegetation, which no doubt must be abundant on its banks a very few miles further down. Few of the plants observed in the valley were different from those common around Simla; a species of Caragana, a Leguminous genus abundant in Siberia, and in the interior and more dry parts of the Himalaya, was perhaps the most interesting.

The ascent from the ravine was well wooded in its lower part with oak and pine. A few trees of a very handsome poplar (P. ciliata), a tall widely-branching large-leaved tree, occurred in its lower part, as did also Benthamia fragifera, and a yew, apparently undistinguishable from the common European species. The upper part of the ascent was bare and grassy. The spur is a steep one, descending rapidly from the main range, and the road winding round its shoulder does not ascend beyond 7000 feet, but as soon as it has gained the eastern face continues nearly level, gradually approaching the centre of the valley, and winding along the hill-sides among numerous villages. The slopes are generally bare; here and there in the hollows or recesses along the lateral streamlets there is some very fine forest.

CULTIVATED VALLEY.
August, 1847.

The appearance of this valley is considerably different from that of any of those nearer to the plains. The population is considerable, and collected into villages, some of which occupy the lower part of the valley, and are surrounded by a good deal of cultivation and numerous walnut and apricot trees, the latter of which are said, in autumn, frequently to tempt the bears from the forest, to indulge in what to them is a grateful feast. The ripening of the apricot in a valley, among forest, at an elevation of 7000 feet, indicates an undoubted diminution of the rain-fall. Very little change, however, is observable in the wild vegetation till the upper part of the last steep ascent, when a number of species make their appearance which are strangers to the more external ranges. A species of hazel, as a tree, and Lappa, Achillea, Leonurus, Cheiranthus, and Rumex acetosa, as herbaceous plants, may be mentioned as instances, as also a lax-paniculate Polygonum, with elegant panicles of white honey-scented flowers.

NAGKANDA.
August, 1847.

Nagkanda bungalow, elevated 9300 feet above the level of the sea, is situated on a depression of the main range, where it has a direction from west to east. The ridge to the west, towards Mattiana, is elevated little more than 10,000 feet, while to the east rises the peak of Hattu to a height of 10,674 feet, by the determination of the trigonometrical survey. Here the range has approached nearer to the Sutlej, now distant only about twelve miles, than at any point since leaving Simla. The valley of the Sutlej being only 3000 feet above the level of the sea, while the mountains directly opposite rise to 12,000 feet, the scenery is of the grandest description. The river itself is nowhere visible, the descent being so abrupt at the bottom that the intervening spurs entirely conceal it.

The northern slope of the ridge on which Nagkanda stands, is occupied by a very deep valley, bounded by two long spurs, which run towards the Sutlej. The whole of this valley is occupied by dense forest, a great part of which is pine, especially on the upper part of the deep receding bay which runs up nearly to the top of Hattu, the sides of which are covered with a dense sombre forest of Picea Webbiana (Pindrow).

ASCENT OF HATTU.
August, 1847.

On the 5th of August, a portion of our baggage, which had been left at Fagu two days before, from a deficiency of porters, not having arrived at Nagkanda, it became necessary to halt, in order to give it a chance of reaching us. The day was fortunately fine, and we availed ourselves of the opportunity to ascend Hattu, Captain Strachey taking with him his barometers, to verify their accuracy by the trigonometrically determined height of this mountain, which was one of the stations of the Himalayan survey by Captain Herbert. As the top of the mountain is only about 1500 feet above the Nagkanda bungalow, and the distance is nearly five miles, the ascent is an easy one. The first mile is nearly level, and bare of wood on the ridge, though the forest on both sides rises within a few feet of the crest, which is bordered by brushwood. As soon as the ascent commences, the ridge becomes covered with forest, at first principally pine, spruce and silver fir (Picea) being the principal species. Yew is also very common, forming a fine tall tree, and the few non-coniferous trees are chiefly the alpine oak, sycamore, and cherry. The road, which at first ascends a western spur, by degrees winds round to the face of the mountain, and finally ascends to the summit from the east. The wood on the upper part is entirely oak, and more open than the pine forest lower down. The top of the mountain is steep and bare towards the east, for about five hundred feet, with precipitous rocks thirty or forty feet high towards the west, below which the slope is exceedingly steep and rocky in that direction.

The continuation of the main range towards the east is at first lower than the peak of Hattu some 600 or 700 feet, but rises again to another peak within a mile. A long spur or ridge to the south-west is, however, for nearly two miles, within a few feet of the same height as the summit of Hattu, and rises at about that distance into a point, which probably rather exceeds it. It then sinks rapidly towards the Giri river, the most easterly branch of which has its source in the ravine on the eastern face.

TOP OF HATTU.
August, 1847.

On the top of Hattu there are the remains of a square building, with very thick walls, I believe of native origin, and intended as a sort of fort, which, however, from the want of water, must have been quite untenable. It is now in ruins, its interior being filled with a wilderness of hemp, nettles, Galium Aparine, dock and other coarse plants. The grassy slopes of the summit are covered with a luxuriant herbage of Potentillæ, Labiatæ, Gentianaceæ, Epilobium, Polygonum, and Anemone, while a few stunted bushes of Quercus semicarpifolia, a simple-leaved Pyrus, and a willow, are the only shrubby vegetation. The forest, however, rises close to the base of the cliffs on the western face, and contains all the species common on the ascent of the mountain, the vegetation of the summit being in no respect peculiar, not even in early spring exhibiting any truly alpine plant. The mountain bamboo, a graceful small species of Arundinaria, which is extremely abundant in the woods of the upper temperate and subalpine zones, adorns the rocky hollows close to the summit.

VIEW FROM HATTU.
August, 1847.

In every direction except south, and along the ridge to the east, the view from the top of Hattu is very extensive, as it overlooks all the peaks in the immediate vicinity. To the north the mountains of Kulu, which separate the valley of the Sutlej from that of the Beas, and from the upper Chenab, are most beautifully seen, their peaks rising above one another from west to east, till they enter the region of perpetual snow. Towards the plains, in clear weather, the view must be superb; but in that direction there is so generally a hazy state of the atmosphere, that though I have ascended Hattu four times, I have never been fortunate enough to obtain a favourable day.

In looking back from the summit of Hattu towards Simla and the plains, it may be observed that the country is well wooded, though when viewed from Simla or the heights of Mahasu the same mountains had appeared almost bare. This diversity in the aspect of the country, according to the direction from which it is seen, is due to the ridges being well wooded on one face, and bare of trees on the other. The plainward face is never, except under very exceptional circumstances, at all wooded, while the northern and eastern slopes are generally covered with forest. Probably the more direct influence of the sun, and the action of the strong winds which generally blow up the valleys towards the interior of the mountains, act in concurrence in drying the atmosphere, and checking the growth of trees on the southern and western faces of the ridges.

The shrubby and herbaceous vegetation of Hattu is exceedingly luxuriant. The more open glades of the forest are filled with an undergrowth of tall balsams, annual-stemmed Acanthaceæ, Dipsacus, Compositæ (among which the beautiful Calimeris is very abundant), while in the drier pine-forest a graceful little bamboo occurs, often to the exclusion of every other plant. It grows in dense tufts, eight or ten or even twelve feet high, the diameter of the stem not exceeding a quarter of an inch. The currant of the Mahasu ridge is also common, with many of the same shrubs which are there abundant. The ridge close to Nagkanda is much drier, and has fewer peculiar plants; the resemblance to the Simla flora being there very remarkable.

CULTIVATION.
August, 1847.

On the southern slopes of this ridge, at elevations equal to that of Nagkanda bungalow, and even higher, in some places as high as 9500 feet, there are considerable patches of cultivation. Barley is probably the spring crop, but during the rains a good deal of buckwheat is cultivated. This plant will not thrive in the very humid regions, and is therefore indicative of a drier climate than that of Simla; indeed, even the occurrence of cultivation at such an elevation, during the rainy season, satisfactorily proves the existence of a more moderate rain-fall and greater warmth than on the peaks nearer the plains, as for instance on the Mahasu ridge, on which, except the potato, no cultivation whatever is attempted during the rains, though there are a few fields of wheat or barley in one spot as high as 8000 feet.

DESCENT TOWARDS THE SUTLEJ.
August, 1847.

SHADY RAVINE.
August, 1847.

Our missing loads having arrived at Nagkanda on the evening of the 5th of August, we resumed our journey on the morning of the 6th, marching to Kotgarh, ten miles. At Nagkanda we finally left the main range, and began to descend towards the valley of the Sutlej, following, at the commencement of our journey, a spur which runs from immediately west of the bungalow directly towards the river. After about four miles we quitted this spur to descend into the valley on the right, after crossing which we ascended to Kotgarh, situated on a long spur descending from the peak of Hattu. The early part of the descent was very abrupt, through a forest of large pines, principally P. excelsa and spruce (Abies Smithiana). Some trees of the latter measured upwards of seventeen feet in circumference. Sycamore and cherry were also common in the forest, and a good many trees of Corylus lacera, the hazel of the north-west Himalaya, were observed. The trees were festooned with the gigantic vine already noticed in the Mahasu forest. After the first two hundred feet of descent, the forest was less dense, and chiefly pine. Rhododendron arboreum commenced about 1000 feet below Nagkanda, and was soon followed by the holly-leaved oak, and a little lower by Q. incana, the common hoary oak of Simla; and by the time we had got down to 7000 feet, the vegetation was quite similar to that of Simla. At a little below this elevation, the road leaves the crest of the ridge, which may be seen to continue in a northerly direction, partly bare and partly pine-clad, and descends rapidly to the bottom of the deep ravine on the right. Soon after leaving the ridge we entered thick forest, and at the bottom of the ravine two considerable streams are crossed within a very short distance of one another, at an elevation of about 5500 feet, the lowest level to which we descended during the day's journey. Along the banks of these streams, which have a considerable inclination of bed, the forest is very dense and shady. Few of the trees are coniferous, nor do oaks in this part of the Himalaya select such moist localities. Lauraceæ of several kinds, the horse-chesnut, alder, and hornbeam (Carpinus viminea), with Toon and Celtis, are the prevailing trees.

The streams which the road here crosses descend from different parts of the ridge of Nagkanda. They occupy the bottom of deep ravines, and are in their whole course densely wooded. These ravines are, in their upper part especially, extremely steep and rocky, often with precipitous walls, and scarcely practicable even on foot. The denseness of the forest is principally due to their northern exposure, and to the consequent more equable temperature and greater humidity. They contain many trees not previously observed on the journey from Simla, though all of them, I believe even the horse-chesnut, occur in the very similar steep rocky ravines below Fagu. The alder is a common tree at 4-5000 feet in the north-western Himalaya, always in valleys and on the banks of streams.

In this shady forest I collected a considerable number of plants which do not occur at Simla. A scandent Hydrangea, the loosely-adhering bark of which separates in long rolls like that of the birch, and is used as a substitute for paper, was seen twining round the trunks of trees. I observed also a fine Calanthe, and abundance of Adenocaulon, a remarkable genus of Compositæ, which, till Mr. Edgeworth discovered a species in the Himalaya, was only known as a native of South America. In the thickest part of the forest in this ravine, I was also fortunate enough to meet with a few specimens of Balanophora, which here probably attains its western limit. All these plants are abundant forms in the most humid parts of Nepal and Sikkim, and their presence may, I think, be regarded as indicative of a more equable temperature throughout the year than prevails in the more open parts of the Sutlej Himalaya. The range of mountains on which Nagkanda stands certainly intercepts a great deal of moisture during the rainy season, and therefore makes the valleys on its northern aspect less humid at that period of the year. This would appear to be more than counterbalanced by the effect of the dense forest in keeping up moisture and preventing radiation during winter, for the cold and dryness of that season seem to have a much greater effect in determining the cessation of the forms characteristic of the eastern Himalaya, than the diminished rain-fall during the three months of the rainy season.

KOTGARH.
August, 1847.

After crossing the stream at the bottom of the valley, the road advances in a northerly direction, at first gradually ascending through fine shady woods, but afterwards, turning to the right, mounting rapidly by very abrupt zigzags, up a bare dry hill-side, to the Kotgarh ridge. Here we took up our quarters for the night, in a house the property of Captain P. Gerard, a little above the village of Kotgarh, at an elevation of about 7000 feet, in a fine grove of Pinus excelsa.

Kotgarh, a large village, and the seat of an establishment of missionaries, was at one time a military post, and is interesting to the Himalayan traveller, from the fact of the detachment here stationed having been long commanded by one of the brothers Gerard, whose labours in these mountains, geographical and meteorological, are so well known. It has, however, long been abandoned as a military station, the peaceable state of the hill population rendering it unnecessary to keep a garrison in these mountains.

CULTIVATION.
August, 1847.

Captain Gerard's house, in which we spent the night, is elevated several hundred feet above the upper part of the village of Kotgarh, which occupies the steep face of the ridge directly overlooking the valley of the Sutlej. One reach of the river is visible from the front of the house, and the deep roar of the rapid stream was distinctly audible, notwithstanding that we were still 4000 feet above it. On the morning of the 7th of August we resumed our journey, descending abruptly through the village of Kotgarh to the Sutlej. At first the pine-forest which surrounded our night quarters, accompanied us down the steep hill-side. It was intermixed with a few scattered deodars; and the shrubby and herbaceous vegetation was in all its features identical with that of Simla. Soon, however, the descent was on a bare hill-side, and after reaching the village, the road, inclining to the right or east, kept nearly level for about a mile, passing through much cultivation, in terraced fields on the slopes. The crops were Kodon (Eleusine Coracana) and a cylindrical-headed Panicum, both grains commonly cultivated in the plains of India. There were also many fields of Amaranthus and Chenopodium. The first of these is occasionally cultivated in all parts of the hills, its bright red inflorescence, in autumn, tinging with flame the bare mountain slopes. The Chenopodium was new to me as a cultivated grain, and is particularly interesting from its analogy with the Quinoa of South America. It is entirely a rain crop, and grows very luxuriantly, rising to a height of six or eight feet, with a perfectly straight stout very succulent green stem, and large deltoid leaves, either pale green or of a reddish tinge, and covered with grey mealiness. The seeds, which are extremely small, are produced in great abundance on all the upper part of the plant, and are ripe in September.

DESCENT TO THE SUTLEJ.
August, 1847.

For about a mile after leaving the village of Kotgarh, the descent was trifling, but the remainder of the road to the Sutlej was very steep, so that the change in the vegetation was sudden, commencing just at the point where Quercus incana disappeared; before which few plants indicating heat occurred. The want of wood, no doubt, assisted the rapidity of the change, for the heat soon became considerable. In the course of the descent, I noted all the new forms as they occurred; but the exact order in which each individual species makes its appearance, depends so much upon accidental and unimportant circumstances, and is so likely to be affected by errors of observation, unless many series are obtained in different aspects of the same slope, that it would lead to no advantage to enumerate the species as they were met with. Nearly 1000 feet above the bed of the river, or at an elevation of about 4000 feet, the vegetation had become quite subtropical, species of Mollugo, Polanisia, Corchorus, Leucas, Euphorbia, Microrhynchus, and the ordinary grasses and Cyperaceæ of the plains, being the common weeds. The descent continued very abrupt, the heat increasing rapidly, till the road reached the bank of the Sutlej, at the village of Kepu, which occupies a flat piece of land overhanging the river.

VALLEY OF THE SUTLEJ.
August, 1847.

Having commenced our day's journey before daybreak, in order to complete the march before the extreme heat had commenced, we stopped here to breakfast, under the shade of a fine mango-tree. The neighbourhood of the village was well cultivated, with extensive rice-fields and a fine grove of tropical trees—mango, Ficus Indica and religiosa, Melia Azedarach and Azadirachta, Grewia, oranges, and plantains. Our late residence in a cool climate made us feel the heat much, though the temperature at nine in the morning was not much more than 80°. After breakfast, we continued our journey up the valley, to Nirt or Nirat, a distance of six or seven miles, and next day we reached Rampur, the capital of Basehir, twelve miles further, and still in the Sutlej valley.

The district of Basehir is an independent hill state, governed by a rajah, whose dominion also extends over Kunawar; it commences a very little north of Kotgarh, and occupies the south side of the river Sutlej and the mountain slopes above it, as far east as the confines of Kunawar. The valley of the Sutlej, in the western part of Basehir, from Rampur downwards, has an elevation of little more than 3000 feet, Rampur (140 feet above the bed of the river) being 3400 feet above the level of the sea[4]. The river, at the season of our journey, which was the height of the rains, at which time it is at its largest, is an impetuous torrent, of great size, but very variable in breadth, foaming along over a stony bed, with generally very precipitous rocky banks, and filled with large boulders. During the rainy season it is extremely muddy, almost milky, and deposits in tranquil parts of its course a considerable amount of white mud. The valley is generally very narrow, with steep bare hills on either side, quite devoid of trees and covered only with a few scattered bushes and long coarse grass. In the bays or recesses on the mountain-sides, between the terminations of the rocky spurs which descend to the river, the valley is often filled with a hard conglomerate rock, the cement of which is calcareous, evidently (geologically) of very recent origin. These patches of conglomerate are flat-topped, and often scarped towards the river, and are frequently 200 feet and more in thickness. They differ in degree of consolidation only from ordinary alluvial deposit, so that they appear to owe their preservation from the denuding effects of river action, to the calcareous matter, which has cemented the pebbles and sand into a solid rock.

VEGETATION.
August, 1847.

The road follows throughout the course of the river, rising sometimes 200-300 feet, to pass over rocky spurs; at other times it lies on the surface of the boulder conglomerate, and more rarely close to the river. Here and there is a small village, with a few rice-fields, but the greater part of the valley is utterly sterile. Like the valleys of the outer Himalaya, that of the Sutlej here exhibits a curious mixture of the ordinary vegetation of the plains, with forms which point out the mountainous nature of the country. The whole flora is strongly characteristic of a dry soil and an arid climate. The mountain ranges to the west and south, no doubt, intercept a good deal of rain; and the lofty mountains, 10-12,000 feet in height, which, on the right and left, rise rapidly from the river, appropriate to themselves a great part of the moisture which reaches the valley. We may, therefore, in the absence of direct meteorological observations, infer, from the physical structure of the valley, and from the nature of its vegetation, that its climate is drier than that of the valleys at the base of the Himalaya.

The Sutlej valley cannot, of course, be properly compared with the base of the mountains farther east, where luxuriant forest covers all the slopes; but when contrasted with the Pinjor valley, or the low hills above Kalka, it is only on a careful comparison that a difference is to be observed, and then, perhaps, more by the absence of forms abundant in them than by any marked addition of new ones. The ordinary shrubs of the Sutlej, at 3000 feet, are Adhatoda Vasica, Carissa edulis, Colebrookea, Rottlera tinctoria, and some species of Bœhmeria, all characteristic of the outer hills, and the two first common plains plants. The remarkable Euphorbia pentagona is also common. Butea, Ægle, and Moringa do not occur, nor are there any bamboos. Flacourtia sepiaria, Capparis sepiaria, and Calotropis, which are three of the commonest plants of the plains, were also not observed. A large white-flowered caper (Capparis obovata, Royle) and a glabrous Zizyphus were the most remarkable new forms. The herbaceous vegetation differed scarcely at all from that of the plains, consisting chiefly of species which, during the rainy season, spring up in the lightest and driest soils.

Mountain plants were only occasional, and mostly such as at Simla descend on the dry grassy slopes into the valleys: a berberry and bramble (Rubus flavus), Plectranthus rugosus, which is a grey and dusty-looking shrub, Melissa umbrosa, Micromeria biflora, a little Geranium, Ajuga parviflora, a Galium, Senecio, Aplotaxis candicans, and one or two Umbelliferæ. They did not, however, amount to a twentieth part of the whole vegetation, and the aspect of the flora was quite subtropical. A little Eriophorum, which is everywhere common in arid places at the base of the Himalaya, from Assam to the Indus, was frequent in the crevices of the rocks. Ferns were very scarce, only two or three being observed.

RAMPUR.
August, 1847.

The town of Rampur is a considerable place, on a small level tract of ground, about a hundred feet above the bed of the river Sutlej, which it overhangs. The houses are substantially built, in the form of a square, with an open space in the centre; they are mostly one-storied, and have steeply-sloping slated roofs. The town has a good deal of trade with Tibet, principally in shawl wool, and is the seat of a small manufacture of white soft shawl-cloths. The river is here crossed by a rope suspension-bridge, of a kind very common in the lower valleys, which has often been described. It consists of nine stout ropes, which are stretched from one side of the river to the other. The width of the Sutlej at the bridge, according to Captain Gerard, by whom it was measured, is 211 feet.

During our stay at Rampur, Major Cunningham directed my attention to the alteration of the level of the river at different periods of the day, from the variable amount of solar action on the snows by which it is fed. This effect he had noticed on his former visit to the mountains, and we had frequent opportunities of observing it during our journey. At Rampur the diurnal variation was not less than three or four feet, the maximum being, I believe, during the night or early in the morning. In the immediate vicinity of snow, the streams are highest in the afternoon, but as the distance increases the period of greatest height becomes by degrees later and later.

Except on our two first days' journey, we had been extremely fortunate in weather since leaving Simla. The day of the 8th was very cloudy and oppressive, and the 9th, on which we remained stationary at Rampur to make arrangements with the Rajah for our further progress through Basehir and Kunawar, was rainy throughout. The rain, however, was light, and did not prevent the Rajah from visiting us in the afternoon, impelled, I suppose, by a desire to see our apparatus and arrangements for travelling. We were lodged in an excellent upper-roomed house of his, overhanging the Sutlej, and not far from his own residence, which lies at the east end of the town, and externally is quite without beauty, presenting to view nothing but a mass of dead walls. The Rajah seldom remains during the hot season at Rampur, as he has a second residence at Serahan, twenty miles up the river, and 7000 feet above the level of the sea, in which he usually spends the summer, though during 1847, for some reason or other, he remained during the greater part of the year at Rampur.

ANCIENT RIVER-CHANNEL.
August, 1847.

On the morning of the 18th of August we resumed our journey. Our direction still lay up the valley of the Sutlej, and for the first three miles the road kept parallel to the river, ascending occasionally a few hundred feet to cross spurs, when the immediate margin of the Sutlej was too rocky and precipitous to allow of a passage. This was not unfrequently the case, and after a few miles the river-bank became so rugged and difficult, that the road left it, to ascend a long ridge, descending from the mountain range to the south. The early part of the road, from the many views of the river rushing over its rocky bed, often among immense boulders, and from the general boldness of the mountain scenery, was, though bare of forest, very striking. Frequently the road overhung the river, which ran through a narrow rocky ravine many hundred feet below. At other times, it lay over the surface of the flat platforms which occupied the valley, and in several places curious excavations were noticed on the rocky surface, as if the river had formerly flowed over higher levels. One of these ancient channels was so very remarkable, that it could not be overlooked. The rocky banks on either side were at least a hundred feet apart, and the large water-worn boulders, with occasional rugged pointed rocks which filled the bed, conveyed unmistakeably the conviction that we were walking over an ancient river-bed, though the elevation could not be less than 150 feet above the present level of the river.

ASCENT TOWARDS GAORA.
August, 1847.

Three miles from Rampur the road began to ascend a long spur in a south-east direction. After we had ascended a few hundred feet, the course of the river could be seen on the left among precipitous rocks, quite impracticable. The ascent was through a well-cultivated tract, the base of the hill and lower slopes being covered with fields of rice, still only a few inches high. The road ascended rapidly, through villages with numerous fruit-trees. At first, the vegetation continued the same as in the valley, and the hills were bare, except close to the village. Within a thousand feet of the base, the cultivation ceased, and the road entered a wood of scattered firs, mixed after a little with the common oak (Q. incana). At about 5000 feet the steep lateral spur joined the ridge, and the road turned to the eastward, and continued along the steep sides of the ridge, which overhang the valley of the river 2000 feet below. The Sutlej was well seen, running among bare rocky hills, the pine-wood being confined to the upper parts of the steep slopes.

Had we continued our course along this ridge, it would in time have conducted us to the crest of the main range south of the Sutlej, the same which we had left at Nagkanda to descend into the Sutlej valley. It would have been necessary for this purpose to ascend to a height of between 12,000 and 13,000 feet, and to proceed to a considerable distance south; our object, however, being to keep along the river as nearly as possible, it would not have suited our purpose to ascend so far, and the road only left the banks of the Sutlej on account of the difficult nature of the ground in the bottom of the valley. We found, therefore, after continuing a mile or two on the steep slope of the ridge, that the road again began to descend, not exactly towards the Sutlej, but to the bottom of the ravine or dell, by which the spur on which we had ascended was separated from that next in succession to it.

GAORA.
August, 1847.

As far as the beginning of the descent the hill-side had been bare, or only clothed with scattered pine-wood, but as soon as the eastern slope was gained, and the descent commenced, the slopes became well wooded with Rhododendron and Oak. The descent was probably not more than 1000 feet, perhaps scarcely so much, as the ravine sloped very abruptly to the Sutlej; on the lower part of the descent, and on the bank of the stream, the wood was principally alder, and a few subtropical grasses and Cyperaceæ marked the commencement of the vegetation of the lower region, while a valerian, a Hieracium, a species of Datisca, and an Arundo or allied grass, were the new species of plants observed; of these, perhaps the Datisca alone markedly indicated an approach to the interior Himalaya. After crossing the ravine the road ascended abruptly up a well-wooded slope, on the northern face of a steep spur, to the village of Gaora, at which, for the first time since leaving Simla, we encamped, no house being available for our accommodation. The morning had been fair, though dull, but soon after our arrival at Gaora it began to rain, and continued to do so all the afternoon.

Gaora is situated, according to Captain Gerard, about 3000 feet above Rampur; but from the appearance of the vegetation, and a comparison with known heights on both hands, we estimated the elevation of our encampment to be not more than 5500 feet, so that probably Captain Gerard's observations refer to some more elevated point.

MANGLÂD VALLEY.
August, 1847.

On resuming our journey on the morning of the 11th of August, we continued the ascent of the spur on which the village of Gaora is situated, which is well wooded with the ordinary trees of the temperate zone of the Himalaya. There were a few rice-fields on the hill-side on cleared places above 6000 feet, and some orange-trees in the villages at about the same elevation; from both of which facts, more sun-heat and less rain during summer may be inferred, than in similar elevations on the outer Himalaya, where neither rice nor oranges occur so high. A little way higher up, the forest changed its character, the holly-leaved oak, the deodar, and the spruce, being the common trees, among which the road continued for four or five miles, without much change of level, when the forest ceased, and the road, after continuing for a short time at about the same level, descended abruptly to the ravine of the Manglâd river, a considerable stream, now swollen into a furious torrent, which rushed with impetuosity down its steep rocky bed. A great part of the descent was bare, over crumbling mica-slate rocks.

The vegetation in the bottom of the glen showed, as on former occasions, indications of a low elevation, but presented no novelty, except in the occurrence of Melia Azedarach, apparently wild. I have occasionally noticed this tree in the interior of the Himalaya, always at an elevation of between 4000 and 5000 feet, and invariably in the drier valleys of the mountains, but it is so commonly cultivated in India, that its occurrence can scarcely be regarded as a proof of its being indigenous, especially if we consider that it is a rare circumstance to find it in even an apparently wild state. I do not, however, know that it has a greater claim to be considered a native of any part of the world.

SERAHAN.
August, 1847.

The ascent on the east side was long, steep, and fatiguing, up well-wooded slopes. At about 6000 feet, a single tree of Hippophaë conferta, with nearly ripe fruit, was observed near a spring, and a few hundred feet higher the road gained the ridge, and continued for a mile and a half of very gentle ascent, on a broad, nearly level mountain-side, to Serahan, through beautiful forest of oak and pine. Serahan, the summer residence of the Basehir Rajah, is pleasantly situated at an elevation of 7000 feet above the level of the sea, on the northern slope of the mountain range, surrounded on all sides by pine-forest. The village is small, and occupies the lower margin of an open glade of considerable extent, on which there is a good deal of cultivation, of the same plants as I have noted at Kotgarh. The latter part of our march had been through heavy rain, which continued all the evening, and the greater part of the night, but we were fortunate enough to find an empty house, capable of sheltering our servants and baggage, as well as ourselves.

Besides the Hippophaë, which I noted on the ascent from Manglâd, several plants appeared on this day's journey, which served to chronicle a gradual alteration in the flora, notwithstanding that the forest-trees and general character continued generally the same. Of these, the most interesting, by far, was a plant discovered by Mr. Edgeworth, in the same tract of country, and by him described as Oxybaphus Himalayanus, a species of a genus otherwise entirely South American. It is a rank-growing, coarse, herbaceous plant, with tumid joints, and a straggling dichotomous habit, and has small pink or rose-coloured flowers, covered with a viscid exudation. It grows in open pastures and in waste places near villages, and is an abundant species throughout the Kunawar valley.

TRANDA.
August, 1847.

On the morning of the 12th of August we marched to Tranda, along the mountain-side, winding a little with its sinuations, and occasionally descending to cross the little streamlets which furrow its side, and separate the lateral ridges from one another. The road lay through beautiful forest, and as the day was fine we obtained at intervals a succession of superb views, of the deep and well-wooded valleys below, and the rugged mountains north of the Sutlej. The forest-trees were still the hoary and holly-leaved oak, with deodar and spruce, though in the more shady woods along the streams, the horse-chesnut, and a fine glaucous-leaved laurel, were common. The shrubby and herbaceous vegetation was in general character the same as in the denser woods of Simla, the new species being still quite exceptional.

It soon became necessary to descend, in order to gain a place on the next range in succession to the eastward, so as not to leave the river at too great a distance. Forest continued to the bottom of the descent, which showed no signs of tropical vegetation, and was therefore not to so low a level as those of previous days. The remainder of the day's journey consisted of a succession of ascents and descents, mostly long and fatiguing, with occasionally half a mile nearly level. Many of the steeper parts were very rocky and rugged, so difficult that artificial steps were required to make them practicable, and even with their aid a horse could scarcely pass. The greater part of the road lay through forest, and two considerable streams were crossed besides the one on the early part of the march. From the last of these a long and very laborious ascent led to the crest of the Tranda ridge, on the very top of which we halted for the night in a log hut, built for the accommodation of travellers, in the midst of a fine forest of deodar-trees.

The Tranda ridge has, till near its termination, an elevation of upwards of 8000 feet, and projects boldly forward towards the Sutlej, dipping at last extremely abruptly to the river. The Sutlej is here thrown to the north, in a sharp bend, and runs through a deep gloomy ravine. This ridge, therefore, more lofty and abrupt than any farther west, is considered as the commencement of Kunawar; and the valley to the eastward, as far as the Wangtu bridge, is generally called Lower Kunawar, to distinguish it from the upper and drier parts of that district. The rise of the bed of the river is so gradual, that the transition of climate takes place at first by almost insensible gradations; but as soon as the spurs retain a height of 8000 feet till close to the Sutlej, they exercise a powerful influence upon the climate, and the vegetation and physical aspect of the country change with great rapidity.

CHAPTER III.

Sildang river—Fine grove of Deodars—Nachar—Fruit-trees—Vine seen for first time—Boundaries of Kulu and Kunawar—Cross Sutlej at Wangtu bridge—Vegetation of bare rocky valley—Waterfall—Chegaon—Pinus Gerardiana—Miru—Absence of rain—Alteration of vegetation—Quercus Ilex—Rogi—Willow and Poplar—Chini—Cultivated Plain—Kashbir—Pangi—Camp at upper level of trees—Junipers—Werang Pass—Alpine Vegetation—Birch and Rhododendron—Granite Boulders—Lipa—Alluvial Deposits—Encamp at 12,500 feet—Runang Pass—Vegetation very scanty—Stunted Forest—Sungnam.

SILDANG VALLEY.
August, 1847.

The night we spent at Tranda was stormy, with thunder and heavy showers of rain, but the morning of the 13th was bright and beautiful, enabling us to see from our elevated position on the ridge, a single snow-peak, far to the eastward, in Kunawar. At the commencement of the day's march, the road receded from the Sutlej into a deep mountain bay, densely wooded with deodar and pine (Pinus excelsa). A few trees only of spruce and horse-chesnut occurred. After a mile, passing round a projecting spur, a fine view was obtained of the river Sutlej at the bottom of a deep ravine, and of the mountain range north of the river, now in several places covered with heavy snow. A little farther on, the road descended very abruptly along the face of rugged and precipitous rocks, to the valley of the Sildang river, a large stream which was crossed in two branches by two very indifferent wooden bridges. The Sildang valley, at the point where the road crosses it, has been stated by Gerard to be elevated 5800 feet above the level of the sea. It is a larger stream than any of those yet crossed since leaving Rampur, and its ravine is beautifully wooded. The ascent to the east was gentle, through woods of oak and pine, and after rising a few hundred feet, the road continued nearly level for some miles, with the Sutlej in sight below. A large village was passed on the latter part of the march, with many temples evidently of old date, and situated in a grove of very large deodar-trees, several of which were upwards of twenty feet in circumference. One large tree with a flattened trunk, as if formed by the union of two, measured, at five feet from the base, thirty-five and a-half feet round. This grove was evidently of great age, and probably consisted of old trees, at the time the village was founded, and the temples were built under its sacred shade.

Nachar, at which we took up our quarters for the night, is a very large village, by far the most considerable yet passed, with many good houses, much cultivated land, and great numbers of fine fruit-trees. Walnuts, peaches, apricots, and mulberries, were all common; and I saw one grape-vine, which bore a good many bunches of fruit. The crops cultivated were chiefly millet and buckwheat, with a good many fields of Amaranthus and Chenopodium. The fruit-trees were evidently, from their numbers and luxuriance, a very valuable part of the possessions of the inhabitants; and it was very interesting to meet with the vine, though only in small quantity, and evidently not yet in a thoroughly suitable climate. The elevation of the village, which occupied a great extent of the hill-side sloping down towards the Sutlej, now close at hand, was nearly 7000 feet.

EASTERN BOUNDARY OF KULU.
August, 1847.

Nearly opposite Nachar, the district of Kunawar, which had hitherto been confined to the south bank of the Sutlej, extends to both sides of the river; the province of Kulu, which had hitherto occupied the northern bank, being bounded on the east by the mountain-chain which separates the waters of the Beas river from those of the Piti, a tributary of the Sutlej. By this very lofty chain, the villages on the north side of the Sutlej, to the east of the point now reached, are entirely cut off from the valley of the Beas, and naturally become connected with the district immediately opposite to them, with which alone they have an easy communication. Kulu, till the campaign of 1846, had belonged to the Punjab; but one of the results of the Sikh war, in that year, was the transfer of that district to British rule, so that the Sutlej, in its lower course, no longer served as a boundary between hostile states. In Kunawar, the north side of the river is the most important, because it is more populous and fertile than the south, not only from its more favourable exposure, but because the chain to the south of the Sutlej continues to increase in elevation as it proceeds eastward, while that on the north becomes gradually lower as it advances towards the confluence of the Sutlej and Piti rivers.

DESCENT TOWARDS THE SUTLEJ.
August, 1847.

For this reason the main road or highway through Kunawar crosses to the right bank of the Sutlej, a short way above Nachar. At starting, therefore, on the morning of the 14th of August, we began to descend towards the river. For about a mile and a half the descent was very gentle, through a good deal of cultivation. There were many fruit-trees, but very little natural wood; a few horse-chesnut trees were observed, and occasionally a scattered deodar, spruce, or pine. On the earlier part of the road the pines were P. excelsa, but lower down that tree gave place to P. longifolia. After a mile and a half, the descent became more rapid, over a rocky and bad road, which continued to the bridge, distant three miles from Nachar. On the bare, arid, and rocky hills between Nachar and the river, several very striking novelties were observed in the vegetation; but as the road had for several days been at a higher level, and generally among dense forest, it is not improbable that many of these new plants may occur on the lower parts of the hills, in the immediate vicinity of the river, further to the westward. The new species were in all about six in number, of which three—two species of Daphne and an olive—were very abundant, and therefore prominent features in the appearance of the country.

WANGTU BRIDGE.
August, 1847.

At the point where the bridge has been thrown across, the river Sutlej has an elevation, by the determination of Captain Gerard, of 5200 feet above the level of the sea. Its bed and the banks on both sides are very rocky and bare, and the width of the stream not more than seventy feet. The bridge is of that kind called by the mountaineers sanga, which means a wooden bridge or bridge of planks, contrasted with jhula, a rope-bridge. On the left bank the pier of the bridge is formed by an isolated rock, separated from the rocky banks by an ancient bed of the river, now quite dry, but worn smooth by the action of the current. This former channel is stated by Gerard to have been blocked up by a fall of rocks from above; previous to which occurrence, the isolated rock must have stood as an island in the centre of the stream. The construction of the bridge is singular, but simple, and only adapted for very little traffic. Six stout trunks of trees are laid alongside of one another on the pier, so that the end towards the river is a little higher than the other; above these are placed in succession two similar layers of trunks, each projecting several feet beyond the one below it, and the whole of these are kept in position by a substantial stone building, through which the roadway runs. A similar structure on the opposite bank narrows the distance to be spanned, at the same time that it affords support to the central portion of the bridge, which consists of two strong pine-trees fifty feet in length, placed about two feet apart, and supporting stout cross planking. The whole forms a bridge quite strong enough to support foot-passengers or lightly laden horses, the only purpose for which it is required.

WATERFALL.
August, 1847.

In spite of the considerable elevation which the Sutlej valley had now acquired, a number of plants of tropical character occurred in the neighbourhood of the Wangtu bridge. These were mostly common grasses and Cyperaceæ, Polycarpæa corymbosa, Achyranthes aspera, and a few other species, all common mountain-plants at low elevations, which here, from the great heat caused by the lessened rain and the concentration of the sun's rays, at the bottom of a deep bare valley, surmounted on both sides by mountains 10,000 feet above its level, enjoy a congenial climate. They are, however, confined to the most exposed places, and to the lower levels only. A few rugged pine-trees are scattered on the steep rocks, both Pinus excelsa, which does not descend quite to the base of the hills, and Pinus longifolia, which has here reached nearly its eastern limits, the elevation of the river-bed soon becoming greater than that at which it will grow. Close to the Wangtu bridge, on the right bank, a considerable stream joins the Sutlej from the north, and is crossed by the road not far from its junction with the great river. The lower part of this tributary exhibits a succession of fine rapids and a waterfall, now much swollen by the melting of the snow; and which, notwithstanding the want of trees and consequent bareness of the accessories, formed a picture such as often greets the eye of the traveller in the alpine districts of Himalaya, but which no amount of repetition renders less grand and magnificent. Captain Gerard has, in his little 'Tour in Kunawar,' described this torrent in strong language, which showed that he felt the beauty of the scene. For this he has been condemned by Jacquemont, who sneeringly says that he describes it "comme si c'était le Niagara," an expression which induced me to turn on the spot to Gerard's book, so that I can testify to the accuracy and absence of exaggeration of his description.

After crossing this stream, the road ascends the spur which runs parallel to it, to an elevation of about 1000 feet above the Sutlej, but only to descend again to its banks, the ascent being caused by the impracticable nature of the rocky banks of the river. The spur was bare of trees, but with scattered brushwood, in which the olive and white Daphne, observed on the descent from Nachar, still abounded, with several other novelties, among which a Clematis, Silene, Stellaria, and Selaginella, all previously-described Kunawar species, were the most remarkable. Several of the grasses of the plains of India, such as a Panicum (perhaps P. paludosum), Eleusine Indica, and Heteropogon contortus, occurred on the hot dry pastures among the rocks, up to above 6000 feet. The rock was everywhere gneiss, but varied much in appearance and texture, and contained many granite veins.

CHEGAON.
August, 1847.

After regaining the river, the road ran along its bank, or on low spurs not more than a few hundred feet above it, through a dry treeless tract, till about two miles from the end of the day's journey, when a long steep ascent led to Chegaon, a large village situated on a stream with steep rocky banks, the houses as usual being surrounded with fruit-trees. Here we encamped after a march of at least fourteen miles, at an elevation of 7000 feet above the level of the sea, or nearly 1800 feet above the valley of the Sutlej.

GERARD'S PINE.
August, 1847.

Next day our journey was a short one, not more than five and a half miles, to the village of Miru. It began by a rapid ascent for two miles to the crest of the ridge, advancing all the time towards the Sutlej, which wound round the base of the steep spur 2000 feet below. The ascent was bare (as the slopes facing the west generally are), and the hill-side almost precipitous; but as soon as the crest of the ridge, at an elevation of about 8000 feet, had been gained, scattered trees appeared of a species not previously seen. This was P. Gerardiana, the pine of Kunawar and the other dry regions of the Western Himalaya, from the back parts of Garhwal (where it has been seen by Dr. Jameson) to the valleys of the Upper Chenab. The first trees met with were small, and in appearance quite distinct from P. longifolia and excelsa, being more compact, with much shorter leaves and a very peculiar bark, falling off in large patches, so as to leave the trunk nearly smooth.

MIRU.
August, 1847.

Beyond the crest of the ridge, from which the view into the Sutlej valley, and towards the mountains across the river, was superb, the road on the east slope again receded from the river, entering an oak-wood, through which it continued nearly level for more than a mile, but soon began to descend slightly towards the stream, which ran at the bottom of a deep ravine, down to which the road plunged abruptly, to ascend again as steeply on the other side; after which a steep ascent of upwards of a mile led to Miru, a large village in which we encamped, at an elevation of 8500 feet.

At this delightful elevation, in a climate where the periodical rains of the Himalaya are scarcely felt, embosomed in extensive orchards of luxuriant fruit-trees, and facing the south, so that it has the full benefit of the sun's rays to mature its grain-crops, Miru is one of the most delightful villages of Kunawar, being rivalled only by Rogi and Chini, beyond which the climate becomes too arid for beauty. The crops at Miru, both of grain and fruit, were most luxuriant, and the vine thrives to perfection. The principal vineyards, however, are lower down, at elevations of between 6000 and 7000 feet, at which level the sun has more power in autumn to ripen the grape.

The scenery around Miru is indescribably beautiful, as it almost overhangs the Sutlej 3000 feet below, while beyond the river the mountain-slopes are densely wooded, yet often rocky and with every variation of form. A single peak, still streaked with snow, but too steep for much to lie, rises almost due opposite; behind which the summits of the chain south of the Sutlej rise to an elevation of upwards of 18,000 feet.

At Miru we found that we had completely left the rainy region of the mountains, and henceforward the weather continued beautiful. The change had been very gradual. At Serahan we had heavy rain; a rainy night at Tranda was succeeded by a brilliant day, till the afternoon, when it rained smartly for an hour. The next day was again fine, and at Miru, though the afternoon was cloudy, and a heavy storm was visible among the mountains across the Sutlej, only a few drops of rain fell. The transition from a rainy to a dry climate had thus been apparently very sudden, four days having brought us from Serahan, where the periodical rains were falling heavily, to a place at which there were only light showers. This was in part, of course, accident. Fine weather may, perhaps, have set-in in the interval in all parts of the mountains. In very rainy seasons, when the rain-fall in the outer Himalaya is considerably above the mean, heavy showers extend into Kunawar, at least as far as Chini; and careful meteorological observations would probably show that the transition of climate is a very gradual one, the snowy mountains and the great spurs which run towards the Sutlej collecting and condensing, as they increase in elevation, more and more of the moisture which is brought by the south-east winds from the Bay of Bengal.

VEGETATION OF KUNAWAR.
August, 1847.

Jacquemont, in the valuable journal of his tour in India, which has been published by the French Government, has observed that the passage of the ridge between Chegaon and Miru may be considered as producing a marked change in the vegetation. This change, as we have seen during our journey up the Sutlej, had long been going on, though very gradually and almost insensibly. Several circumstances combine to make the transition appear at this point more sudden than a careful calculation of the number of new species will prove to be the case. It is the first wooded ridge on the north side of the Sutlej over which the road passes, and it rises higher than any other part of the route east of Nagkanda. A considerable effect is also produced by several new arboreous or shrubby species making their appearance, as well as by the fact that the new forms, which day by day have insensibly been increasing in number, have at last begun to form a prominent feature in the country.

I find among my notes a list of all the species of plants which came under my observation during the walk from Chegaon to Miru. Their number is rather above 150 species, of which number about 120 are common Simla plants. Of the remaining thirty, eleven were quite new to me, ten had occurred only the day before, and nine had been common for some days past. These numbers convey a very different idea of the amount of change from that produced at the time, but the latter must be admitted to be very fallacious, the eye of the botanist being so naturally attracted by novelty, to the utter disregard of what is common, that it is difficult to preserve the degree of attention requisite to observe properly.

QUERCUS ILEX.
August, 1847.

Pinus Gerardiana produces a very large cone, containing, like the stone-pine of Europe, eatable nuts, of an elongated oblong form, which, when roasted like chesnuts, are agreeable to the taste, though with a little flavour of turpentine. This tree has been repeatedly tried in the rainy districts of the Himalaya, but will not succeed, a dry climate being essential to it. Besides Gerard's pine, a new species of oak was the most conspicuous tree, forming a thick dry wood on western exposures. This oak, the only species of the genus which grows in the interior of Kunawar, is the Quercus Ilex. The specimens which I collected quite agree with the European plant, and belong to that form of the evergreen oak, which has been called Q. Ballota. The same tree is common in some parts of Affghanistan, where it is called Balút. A small graceful ash was also common, and species of Stellaria, Lychnis, Dianthus, Herniaria, Cruciferæ, Senecio, and Valeriana, which, with several Chenopodiaceæ and Artemisiæ, were the new species observed.

VIEW OF THE SUTLEJ.
August, 1847.

On the morning of the 16th of August, we proceeded to Rogi, eight and a half miles. On leaving Miru the road at first ascended gradually through a pretty wood of deodar and Gerard's pine. The common pear-tree of the Himalaya, and many of the more ordinary Simla shrubs, species of Desmodium, Indigofera, Spiræa, Buddleia, and Plectranthus, were common under the shade of the pine-forest. As the elevation increased, the trees gradually diminished in number, and the road continued to rise along the side of a rocky hill, with only a few scattered deodars. A very pretty reach of the Sutlej now came into sight. The river was broader than usual, and seemed to flow with a gentle stream along an even bed, without interruption from rocks. Opposite the junction of the Miru tributary, which was in sight at the end of the reach, the Sutlej was particularly wide, and its channel was divided into several branches, which enclosed a number of gravelly islands, immediately beyond which the stream again contracted in width, and resumed its usual rocky character.

From the top of the steep ascent, which must have exceeded 9000 feet in elevation, the road continued along the side of the hill, without much change of level. The slopes were nearly bare, a few trees of the deodar and Gerard's pine only occurring occasionally. The latter tree was more common, and larger than the day before. It is a compact small tree, with much-twisted ascending branches, and a mottled grey bark, quite smooth from the decortication of the outer layers. It bore abundance of large pendulous cones, the size of a small pine-apple, still quite green.

BURANG PASS.
August, 1847.

A little more than two miles from Miru, the road descended to pass a stream, which was crossed in two branches. Immediately afterwards another long ascent commenced, at first steep and bare, with a western exposure, then more gradual through an open wood of deodar and Pinus excelsa. The highest elevation attained was almost 11,000 feet, and close to the summit a most superb view was seen to the south. The valley of the Sutlej was not in sight, but the whole course of the Baspa, except its junction with the Sutlej, and a great extent of fine snowy range beyond, were beautifully seen. The Burang or Borendo pass, elevated 16,000 feet, which leads from the Baspa valley to the upper part of the Pabar or Tons river, a branch of the Jumna, was very conspicuous, with many large patches of grey dirty-looking snow on the hills near it, but its summit seemingly bare. At the highest elevation attained the face of the hill was a mass of precipitous rocks. A fine peak, which had long been visible across the Sutlej, was now almost opposite. This mountain, the termination of the range to the east of the Baspa river, when viewed from the west and north-west, has the appearance of a vast precipice, rocky and bare of trees, commencing within little more than a thousand feet of the Sutlej. The north-east face, which comes into view for the first time from the heights above Miru, is covered throughout with magnificent forest, rising to an elevation considerably higher than that at which I stood.

VEGETATION.
August, 1847.

The elevation we had now attained was higher than any previous part of our journey, being 200 feet above the peak of Hattu. A cold westerly wind was blowing up the valley of the Sutlej, evidently bringing a good deal of moisture along with it, for thin wreaths of mist were occasionally condensed, for a few minutes obscuring the distant view, and then melting again into transparent vapour. The vegetation was less different from that below, than I had expected, and much more luxuriant than I could have supposed, with nothing of an alpine character. Many of the species were identical with those of Nagkanda and the crest of Hattu; but there was no bamboo, nor any of the Acanthaceæ, so common in the more shady and humid forest further east. Balsams, however, were abundant and large, Potentillæ, Salvia nubicola, and Nepetæ, Polygona, Achilleæ, Gnaphalia, and several species of Pedicularis and Ophelia, formed a thick and rank growth. The most remarkable forms observed were Astragaline, of which several species, one a spinous Caragana, were abundant. A pretty little Veronica and Bupleurum, and several new Cichoraceæ, were also collected, as well as an Orobanche, parasitical upon the roots of the common thyme (Thymus Serpyllum).

ROGI.
August, 1847.

From the crest, the remainder of the road consists of a succession of short ascents and descents, along the face of a very rocky hill, till within a mile of Rogi, when it descends very abruptly down the side of a rugged ravine to that village, which, though elevated 9000 feet, lies low down on the mountain-side, and has the appearance of being in a hollow. At Rogi we found the grapes quite ripe, and extremely abundant, but all from vineyards at lower levels. The commonest grape is globular, and of a deep, nearly black colour; but many varieties are cultivated. The apricots were also ripe, and had been gathered from the trees. The flat tops of the houses were now covered with them, drying in the sun. They are split up the middle and dried, the stones being taken out. In this state they keep well, and form a considerable article of export to India. Peach and walnut trees are also common at Rogi, and I saw a few apple-trees. A species of willow, which, in shape of leaf and general appearance, closely resembles a common English willow (Salix alba), is commonly planted along with a glabrous poplar, a small, rather spreading tree, which is frequent throughout Tibet, and seems to be the balsam poplar of Siberia and North America. The English henbane (Hyoscyamus niger) abounds in waste places. This also is a common Tibetan plant, and extends into the drier valleys of the Himalaya, such as Kunawar and Kashmir, but not into the outer mountains, where the periodical rains are heavy.

On the 17th of August we proceeded to Pangi, nine miles farther, passing on the road the village of Chini, the largest inhabited place and most fertile tract of Kunawar, of which it may therefore be considered the capital. From Rogi we had to make a considerable ascent to regain the road, that village lying lower than the direct route from Miru. The ascent lay first through the cultivated lands of the village, and afterwards through open wood. After regaining the road, the ascent continued through a gloomy forest of large deodar-trees for about a mile, terminating at about 10,000 feet of elevation, at which height, turning round a corner on the crest of the ridge, we found ourselves on the upper part of a precipitous cliff, which descends sheer down to the Sutlej. Unfortunately the morning was very misty, a dense fog, condensed from the steadily blowing west wind, enveloping everything, till after ten o'clock, by which time we had long passed the precipitous part of the road. We were told, however, that the cliff was absolutely impracticable below, and, indeed, even where we passed, no little engineering skill was displayed, as the road led along the face of an absolute precipice, on ledges scarcely three feet broad, or just as often over wooden planking, supported at intervals by large upright pieces of timber, whose resting-places were invisible in the dense mist by which we were surrounded.

CHINI.
August, 1847.

As soon as this rocky projection was passed, the road descended rapidly, but over good level ground for half a mile, through a forest of deodar, in which some of the trees were of large size, one of them measuring nineteen feet eight inches in circumference. At the bottom of this descent, after passing a projecting rocky ridge, the village of Chini came in sight, straggling along the side of a sloping hill. Chini occupies the most level, and therefore the most fertile, valley in Kunawar. The village is prettily situated among deodar-trees, while below, and on either side of it, the slopes are disposed in a succession of terraces, some of them of considerable extent, richly cultivated with wheat, barley, and buckwheat. Through this fertile tract, the road was quite level, winding among the stone enclosures of the fields, and often bordered on both sides by grassy pastures, or patches of beautiful green turf, where the little rills, which served to irrigate the fields, had overflowed their banks, and converted the flat land into swampy meadows. Near Chini, we passed a single vineyard of small extent, at an elevation of 7000 feet, the fruit still quite unripe, though for several days we had been plentifully supplied with ripe grapes from the lower vineyards. The vines are supported by erect poles, about four feet high, placed about three feet apart, and connected by horizontal ones laid across them, on which the vines twine.

KASHBIR.
August, 1847.

A little further we passed the small village of Kashbir, consisting of two or three houses only; beyond which a pleasant forest of deodar and Gerard's pine was entered, quite dry, and almost devoid of undergrowth; a few bushes of Daphne, occasionally a small ash-tree, two or three stunted oaks, and quantities of withered grass and dried-up Artemisia, being the only plants observed. Everything looked arid, notwithstanding the eastern exposure, and showed strikingly the rapid change of climate which was taking place. Some of the trees of Pinus Gerardiana, which seemed to thrive more in this arid wood than further west, were between fifty and sixty feet in height, and one of the largest of them which I noticed was nearly twelve feet in circumference. Through this forest the road continued nearly level, till it reached a ravine, on the opposite bank of which was situated the village of Pangi. A very steep descent of half a mile brought us to the stream; and an ascent of more than a mile, in the course of which we rose about 1000 feet vertically, terminated the day's journey. Pangi is a large village, 9000 feet above the level of the sea, with much cultivation and magnificent orchards of apricots, peaches, and walnuts.

PANGI.
August, 1847.

From Chegaon to Pangi we had passed through the finest and most fertile part of Kunawar, which is, however, by no means confined to the north bank of the Sutlej; many large villages having been seen on the opposite side of the valley, with almost as much cultivation as those through which we had passed. The communication across the Sutlej is kept up by paths which lead through the lower cultivation and vineyards to the bank of the river, which is spanned in several places by rope-bridges, one of which only, we saw at a distance. During these three days' journey, the weather was most beautiful, and we could never sufficiently admire the ever-changing beauties of the scenery, which, probably, for variety and magnificence, is nowhere surpassed. The great peak of Raldang, a culminating point of the south Sutlej Himalaya, lies nearly opposite to Chini, and, from a great part of the Kunawar valley, is a prominent feature from almost every point of view. It forms a rugged rocky mass, and the ravines on its slopes are filled with large masses of snow, the lowest beds at this season of a dirty grey colour, and evidently still rapidly receding under the influence of the powerful autumn sun. No glaciers were anywhere in sight.

We were now about to enter upon a very troublesome part of our journey, the crossing of the various ridges which are given off by the mountain range north of the Sutlej, at the great bend of that river where it is joined by the almost equally large Piti river, from the north. These long ranges, given off by an axis 18,000 feet in height, slope at first gently towards these rivers, but at last dip extremely abruptly into the enormous ravine, at the bottom of which the Piti and Sutlej rivers run. Occasionally a rugged and difficult footpath may be found to lead among these precipices, by frequent steep ascents and descents, at no great distance above the river. These paths are always most laborious, and often very dangerous, and the usual road into the valley of the Piti river leads across the higher part of all these ridges, where they are no longer precipitous, but slope at a gentle inclination.

ROCKS OF KUNAWAR.
August, 1847.

During the journey from Simla, I had been able to acquire very little information regarding the geology of the valley of the Sutlej; the quantity of forest, and the rapidity with which we travelled, being unfavourable to the determination of the nature of the rocks. In the earlier part of our journey argillaceous schist, often highly micaceous, predominated. In Kunawar, from Wangtu eastward, gneiss and mica-schist were almost the only rocks which I observed. These appeared to alternate again and again as we advanced, but I obtained no certainty regarding their relative position. Veins of granite occurred occasionally in the gneiss, especially at Wangtu, and probably, from the number of boulders, the axis of the range north of the Sutlej is composed of granite.

Behind Pangi is the Werang ridge, crossed by the pass of that name at a point where its height is 13,200 feet above the sea. This ridge, as will be seen by the map, separates the valley east of Pangi from that of Lipa, the next in succession to the eastward, through which a large tributary flows to join the Sutlej. From Pangi to Lipa, the distance, though considerable, is not too much for an active man to accomplish in one day. It would, however, have been a very long march, allowing of no delay on the way, or on the top of the pass. We therefore divided the distance into two days' journey, ascending on the 18th of August to the upper limit of tree vegetation on the west side of the ridge, and leaving the remainder of the ascent and the whole descent for the next day.

ASCENT TOWARDS THE WERANG PASS.
August, 1847.

At daybreak we were on foot, preparing for the ascent. The morning was, as usual for some days past, thickly foggy, and a heavy dew had fallen during the night. At starting we ascended gently through a dry pine-wood, towards the face of the mountain ridge of which Pangi occupies the western slope. This ridge, like that above Rogi, on the previous day's journey, is very precipitous towards the Sutlej; and the road leads among rocks, and sometimes over planks of wood, ascending gradually as we advanced. After about a mile and a half, rounding the most projecting part of the ridge, we began to recede from the Sutlej on the eastern slope of the range, along the western side of a beautifully wooded open valley, at the bottom of which ran a large rapid stream, evidently descending from snow. Without descending at all, we continued to advance for a mile and a half through fine forest, till we nearly met the stream, which we crossed after a slight abrupt descent. Immediately after crossing, a steep fatiguing ascent of not less than three miles commenced, continuing, with scarcely any intermission, till we reached the spot selected for our encampment, inclining all the way in the direction of the course of the stream, and therefore towards the Sutlej; so that when we stopped, we almost overlooked that river, and had a fine view of the peak of Raldang, covered with a dazzling coat of fresh snow.

The forest at the base of this ascent was principally composed of deodar and Gerard's pine. The former continued abundant till within a quarter of a mile of the top, when it suddenly disappeared. Pinus Gerardiana gradually diminished in number during the ascent, and at last disappeared about the same time as the deodar. Pinus excelsa was not seen at the bottom, and was scarce on the earlier part of the ascent, but became more abundant as we increased our elevation, and was the only tree seen round our encampment. At this point the trees were straggling and distant, but very tall and luxuriant, being well sheltered by rocks. Above our encampment, which was, according to Captain Strachey's barometer, 11,800 feet, there were only a very few stunted trees on a rocky ridge behind. Excepting in the occurrence of a few new species of Astragalus and Artemisia, now quite typical forms, the vegetation during the greater part of the ascent was the same as on the higher levels east of Miru, and it was only above 11,000 feet that any considerable change was observed. Here three species of juniper made their appearance, all stunted bushes, though one of them was J. excelsa, which, in more favourable circumstances, grows to a small tree. The second species was J. squamosa, a depressed shrub, with rigid twisted branches, and the third was undistinguishable from the common juniper of Europe. A thorny species of Ribes, very like the common gooseberry, a strongly scented Labiate, Dictamnus Himalayanus, several Compositæ, one of which was a large-flowered thistle, and European-looking Junci and grasses, were all observed above 11,000 feet. A beautiful Rose (R. Webbiana) was common all the way from the stream.

During the ascent, after crossing the ravine, the rock was throughout gneiss, passing sometimes into a curious dark slaty rock. It was often very fine-grained; and in one place a granite vein was observed, entirely without stratification, and about a foot thick. Throughout the ascent the surface was strewed with erratic blocks of granite, evidently transported from a distance.

The slope below our camp, for several hundred feet, was cultivated with barley, but the crops were indifferent. Lower down, the mountain-side was too steep to admit of tillage. There were no houses, the fields being the property of the inhabitants of a village a long way below, to the east of Pangi.

The morning of the 19th, before sunrise, was a good deal clearer than the two last had been, but mist began to collect soon after sunrise, and did not entirely disappear for about two hours. Immediately after starting, the last trees of Pinus excelsa were left behind, and the ascent to the crest of the pass was gentle, over rough stony ground, covered with tufts of juniper, a shrubby Artemisia, and Pteris aquilina. The pass, which has an elevation of 13,200 feet, occupies a low part of the ridge, the slope to the left descending gently, but rising again into a sharp rocky peak, five or six hundred feet higher. The crest of the pass is a vast mass of loose rocks, and the slopes of the hill on the right are likewise covered with a mass of fragments. These angular boulders are all granite, none of which occurs in situ; the rocks throughout the ascent, so far as I could observe, being gneiss and mica-slate, the latter in one place containing large crystals of cyanite in great abundance.

In the crevices of the loose stones which covered the pass, a very luxuriant vegetation was found; the same plants grew on the hill to the right, and were especially abundant among its rocky recesses. The forms were, for the first time on our journey, quite alpine, very few of the plants being even shrubby, while the great majority were small herbs. A willow, a very small Rhododendron, and Andromeda fastigiata, were almost the only shrubby plants, and the majority of forms were those common on the Alps of Europe, and comprised species of Astragalus, Stellaria, Anemone, Ranunculus, Meconopsis, Saxifraga, Sedum, several Umbelliferæ, Pedicularis, Gentiana, Gnaphalium, Dolomiæa, Saussurea, Artemisia, Ligularia, Morina, Galium, Valeriana, and many others. I added to my collection in all about thirty new species in a very short time. I had, however, never before been at so great an elevation in the Himalaya, so that almost every plant I met was new to me.

The view from the top of the pass was only remarkable for its barrenness. In the direction we had ascended, the prospect was not striking; and to the north-east, the valley in advance and hills beyond were almost bare, scattered bushes and very little forest being visible. The wind blew over the pass from the Indian side, and continued throughout the day to blow on our backs strongly as we descended.

DESCENT FROM THE WERANG PASS.
August, 1847.

From the crest of the pass, the descent to Lipa was long and steep, the distance being about five miles. At about 500 feet or rather more (of perpendicular height) below the pass, the first tree, a large birch, stood quite alone, with a stout erect trunk. A little further down, a small grove of the same trees was passed, in which every individual had its trunk bent in the direction of the slope, probably by the weight of the winter's snow. No birches had been seen on the south face of the pass, nor did the dwarf Rhododendron and little Andromeda appear till the summit had been gained, though they were abundant on the northern face. Rhododendron campanulatum was the next plant observed, forming bushes four or five feet in height, and growing in large green patches, along with the willow, which I had found on the top, and the same rose common on the southern side. About 1200 feet below the summit, that is, about 12,000 feet above the sea, pine-trees commenced—Pinus excelsa and Picea making their appearance together, the deodar not till a considerably lower level had been reached. The trees of silver fir were small, with smaller and shorter leaves than the common tree of the forests in the outer Himalaya, and were therefore the true Picea Webbiana of Royle, the more common long-leaved form being the Picea Pindrow of that author[5].

At an elevation of 11,000 feet, at a rough estimate, we passed the first deodars, and at the same height cultivation commenced. The first fields were wheat, now nearly ripe. With the cultivation many plants of lower elevation began to appear, which had disappeared on the upper part of the mountain, but many were missed which had been common, and the general aspect of the vegetation was strikingly altered, the diminution affecting at once the number, the abundance, and the luxuriance of the plants. Juniper was frequent till some time after the first corn-fields were passed, and Gerard's pine was common on the lower part of the descent. Throughout the whole distance from the crest to the Lipa stream, the road lay along a ravine, which was very rough and uneven, and covered with numerous and often very large boulders of granite[6] scattered irregularly over the surface of the valley. Towards the end of the day's march, we reached the Lipa stream, which was of large size; and we continued along its right bank, through a dry fir-wood, till close to the village, when we crossed by a substantial wooden bridge to enter Lipa, which is situate on a flattish piece of ground on the left bank of the stream, and very little above its level. It is a small village, with some cultivation, and a rather odd-looking little temple, close to which are two fine trees of Juniperus excelsa, the sacred juniper of the Kunawarees and Tibetans. We were accommodated with a room close to the temple, which afforded us sufficiently comfortable quarters.

At the back of the village a thick bank of alluvial clay was observed resting on the rocks behind, and vast masses of the same extended up the valley for a considerable distance. This was the first occurrence of a very common feature of Tibetan valleys, so common as to be almost universal; and as I shall have many opportunities of referring to it again, and shall find it necessary to try to give some explanation, or rather to attempt some conjectures as to its cause, I shall only here pause to observe that the first time of its occurrence coincided with the first entrance into an extremely dry climate; the passage of the Werang ridge having effected a greater change in the aspect of the country than had been seen during very many previous days—the change from luxuriant forest, not indeed to treelessness, but to thin and stunted woods.

LIPA.
August, 1847.

In the valley of Lipa I met with a species of caper, apparently the same which I had collected at Rampur on the Sutlej, on hot rocky places close to the river, but which had not been met with in the intermediate parts of the journey. This little prickly shrub I afterwards found to be a common Tibetan plant, which (like most of its tribe) prefers the hottest and driest exposures, expanding its large white blossoms on dry stony ground, or among rocks where hardly any other plant will vegetate.

Lipa is situated at no great distance from the Sutlej, at an elevation of 8000 feet above the level of the sea. The next range to the eastward is that of Runang, separating the Lipa valley from that of the Ruskalan, on which is situated the village of Sungnam. As in the former instance, we divided the passage into two days' journey, encamping on the 20th of August at an elevation of 12,500 feet. The road began to ascend as soon as we left Lipa. At first we took the direction of the stream, gradually rising along the face of a rocky hill composed of a dark clay-slate, which had now taken the place of the gneiss of the lower part of the Sutlej; but turning to the left, to ascend the ridge, as soon as its crest had been gained. The surface was everywhere barren and dried up. A few scattered pine trees occurred at intervals, but nothing approaching to forest, and the parched stony ground was quite destitute of any covering of turf or of herbaceous vegetation in sufficient quantity to attract the notice of the general observer. The ascent on the ridge was steep and uninterrupted; but as the general direction of the day's journey was down the range, or towards the Sutlej, we had to pass from one ridge to the next in succession, across the ravine by which the two were separated. Here the road was nearly level, and took a long curve in the receding hollow of the hill, turning round a belt of green which occupied the middle of the hollow.

On the left hand, above the road, there was not a trace of verdure in the ravine; but just below the road a small spring burst out from the stony ground. For three or four yards the banks of the little streamlet were quite bare, but at about that distance from its source they were fringed with luxuriant marsh plants, Veronica Beccabunga and Anagallis, rushes, and several kinds of grasses, which gradually increased in abundance. Within a hundred yards of its origin a thicket of willows bordered the stream, and a rich vegetation grew under their shade. From this it would appear that the barrenness of the country cannot be ascribed to any fault of temperature or of altitude, but solely to the deficiency of moisture.

ASCENT TOWARDS THE RUNANG PASS.
August, 1847.

On the next ridge beyond this little green spot, the ascent continued steep, over loose shingly soil, among scattered trees of deodar, and occasionally a fine tree of Pinus Gerardiana; a spinous Astragalus, and several species of Artemisia, formed almost all the scanty vegetation. Higher up there was, in one place, a good view of the Sutlej to the south-east, with a very lofty snowy mountain beyond. A little further on, the pines ceased to grow, and no tree but juniper was seen, the vegetation becoming more and more wretched in appearance, though the same Astragalus and Artemisiæ predominated. Above 12,000 feet, two or three alpine species made their appearance; these were a Polygonum, a Mulgedium, and a little shrubby Potentilla. Except these, however, not one of the numerous alpine forms observed on the Werang pass two days before were to be seen.

We encamped at an elevation of 12,500 feet on the north-east slope of the ridge, overhanging a deep wide valley, in which there were several patches of cultivation still green, at an elevation which I estimated at about 1000 feet below the level of our tents. By this wide valley, (in the lower part of which, on its east side, is the village of Kanam,) we were still separated from the central range on which the Runang pass is situated. The hills all round had a desolate aspect. They were rounded in outline, and appeared quite smooth and destitute of herbage, excepting large dark-green patches of juniper, by which they were mottled. A single stunted tree of Pinus excelsa stood within a short distance of our encampment, and four or five hundred feet lower was a small grove, apparently of birch. During the afternoon a furious west wind blew without intermission. The morning had been quite calm, but before noon the wind had begun to blow, and gradually increased in violence till late in the afternoon; after dark it became calm.

The next morning was clear, with scarcely any wind, but the mountains above us were partly shrouded in mist. For the first time during our journey we had Zobos furnished for the conveyance of our tents. These animals, which are mules between a Yak bull and Indian cow, are intermediate between the two, having most of the peculiarities by which the Yak is distinguished, though in a much less degree. Their colour varies much,—black, white, and iron-grey being all common. They have coarse long shaggy hair, much shorter than in the Yak, a stout rounded body, and the tail has a small tuft at the end, quite similar in miniature to that of the Yak. These mules are exceedingly common in Upper Kunawar and Hangarang, and are much preferred as beasts of burden to the Yak, being more docile, and less sensitive to climatic influences.

THE RUNANG PASS.
August, 1847.

The first half-mile of the ascent to the pass was very gentle, till we passed round the hollow of the valley which lay below our encampment. The hill-sides were covered with stones, among which grew a few tufts of thyme, a large-leaved saxifrage, a yellow Scorzonera, a curious Polygonum, and an Oxyria, the same in appearance with that of the Alps of Europe. Two or three little rills of water trickled across the road, but their margins had no trace of green. The remainder of the ascent was more rapid, but nowhere fatiguing, and I reached the top about 9 A.M. Nothing can be conceived more dreary and bare than the aspect of the pass and the mountains all around. The hills, which at a distance appeared smooth and rounded, were now seen to be covered with loose stones piled upon one another, in the crevices of which a few plants found an attachment for their roots. The elevation was about 14,500 feet, but there was no appearance of snow. To the north-east a wide and straight valley ran from the crest, at the end of which, far below and perhaps eight miles off, was seen the village of Sungnam, beyond which another lofty range of equally rounded mountains, apparently smooth, ran parallel to that on which I stood. On this range, at a level, to the eye sensibly the same as that of the Runang pass, an evident track indicated the pass of Hangarang, over which lay the continuation of our journey.

VEGETATION.
August, 1847.

I spent a considerable time on the top of the pass, and by close searching, in the crevices of the stones, especially on the hill which rose to the south-east, I succeeded in collecting a considerable number of species of plants, though very much fewer than on the Werang pass two days before. From our morning's camp to the top of the pass the whole number of species which I met with was only forty-six, not half of which were observed on the summit. The number gathered on the former pass was nearly three times as great. It must not be forgotten, however, in comparing the two ranges, that the Werang pass is 1300 feet lower than that of Runang, and ought therefore, independent of climate, to be more productive. The species which were observed for the first time on the summit of the Runang pass were not more than six, and were all forms which I have since found to be abundant throughout the higher parts of Tibet. A little willow, creeping among the stones, and scarcely more luxuriant than Salix herbacea, was the only shrubby plant. The others were Oxytropis chiliophylla, Biebersteinia odora, a Draba, Lamium rhomboideum of Bentham, and a species of rhubarb, of which I found only a few leaves and one or two panicles, from which the ripe fruit had nearly fallen away.

The descent from the pass to Sungnam was even more barren and desolate than the other side. The valley was open and almost straight, and the slope gradual. Till nearly half-way not a drop of water occurred on the road, and for miles almost the only vegetation on the hill-sides was an erect branched Polygonum, never more than a foot in height. At an elevation of about 10,000 feet, a few deodars occurred, all miserably stunted in height, though often with trunks of considerable diameter. Gerard's pine, and the ash of Tibet, also appeared a little lower, but in very small numbers. During the greater part of the descent, the white houses of Sungnam were in sight, to all appearance at the end of the valley down which we were proceeding; but when near the bottom, we discovered that we were still separated from them by a wide and level plain, that of the Ruskalan river. On the opposite side of this plain, on the side of a hill just sufficiently high to terminate the vista down the valley by which we descended from the pass, stands the town of Sungnam; while the cultivated lands, which form a wide belt, scarcely higher than the level of the river, were entirely out of sight till we arrived close to the precipitous bank parallel to the river. Here the descent was abrupt to the bed of the Ruskalan. The bank was alluvial, with enormous boulders, and was covered with tufts of Ephedra, a remarkable leafless plant with rod-like branches, which is abundant in every part of northern Tibet, especially in the driest and hottest exposures. It extends also occasionally into the partially rainy district, being found in Kunawar nearly as far west as the bridge of Wangtu.

SUNGNAM.
August, 1847.

Sungnam is one of the principal places of Kunawar, dividing with Kanam, which we did not visit, the claim to be the principal seat in the Sutlej valley of the Buddhist religion. It contains numerous temples and monasteries, with also a considerable industrial population. Cultivation occupies a great part of the valley, and extends up the course of the stream to a considerable distance. The level tract along the river has in many places a breadth of nearly a quarter of a mile, and the town occupies a ridge on the mountain side, to which a gently-sloping road leads from the bridge by which we crossed the Ruskalan.

The elevation of Sungnam above the level of the sea is 9000 feet. Still the vine thrives well, the steep slopes facing the river being covered with vineyards: the grapes were not yet ripe. The principal fruit-trees are apricots and apples. Willows and poplars are also frequent in the village; a new species of the latter being for the first time observed, with leaves white and downy underneath, which appears in no way to differ from Populus alba, the common white poplar of Europe.

CHAPTER IV.

Hangarang ridge separates Kunawar from Piti—Ascent to Hangarang Pass—Alluvial deposit—Steep ascent—View of valley—Limestone rocks—Caragana versicolor, or Dama—Camp at 14,000 feet—Top of pass—View from pass—Vegetation of summit—Descent to Hango—Cultivation round the village—Luxuriant wild plants—Road to Lio—Crambe—Ravine of Piti river—Lio—Bridge over Piti river—Ascent to Nako—Nako—Cultivation of the village—Buddhist temple—Transported blocks—Chango—Changar—Stopped by villagers on Chinese frontier—Natural bridge—Kyuri—Alluvium—Clay deposit with shells—Lari—Ramifications of mountain ranges—Alluvial platforms—Pok—Dankar—Lara—Rangrig—Upper part of Piti—Climate—Saline exudations

The Hangarang ridge, as we may conveniently call that mountain range on which the pass of Hangarang is situated, forms the boundary between the districts of Kunawar and Hangarang. As this range terminates at or close to the point where the Sutlej is joined by the Piti river, this division is geographically convenient. It has also a marked physical signification, forming the absolute limit of the deodar and Gerard's pine; and indeed, if we except the juniper, of all tree vegetation.

On the 22nd of August, our party left Sungnam to ascend towards the Hangarang pass, encamping, as on the two previous occasions, on the upper part of the ascent, so as to get to the summit of the pass at an early hour next day. Our road lay up a narrow ravine, through which a small stream descended from the vicinity of the Hangarang pass, to join the Ruskalan immediately below Sungnam. We followed for a long time the course of this rivulet, so that the ascent was by no means fatiguing. A very few stunted deodars, and a single tree of Pinus Gerardiana, were the only trees met with. A little shrubby vegetation was now and then seen, consisting of an ash, rose, Colutea, Lonicera, and Spiræa. The banks of the ravine were everywhere composed of a conglomerate of angular stones, in general imbedded in soft clay, though the matrix was not unfrequently calcareous, and in several places even composed of crystalline carbonate of lime.

BEDS OF CONGLOMERATE.
August, 1847.

The hard calcareous conglomerates are, I think, of different origin from the clayey ones. Indeed, I was induced to believe from what I saw in the neighbourhood of Sungnam, and occasionally in other districts (as I shall have again occasion to notice), that the calcareous conglomerates, which only occur in the neighbourhood of the limestone formation, and therefore where calcareous springs are common, are formed by the infiltration of water containing lime among beds of loose shingle which have accumulated along the base of the steep hills. These calcareous conglomerates are quite local, never very extensive, and are often covered with an incrustation of lime, showing the continued existence of the calcareous springs, by the action of which I suppose them to have been formed.

ALLUVIAL CONGLOMERATE.
August, 1847.

The clay beds, on the other hand, are continuous and uniform in appearance. They vary much in thickness, but are on the whole much thicker and more remarkable in the upper part of the ravine, where (on the east side) a mass of clay, not less than five or six hundred feet in thickness, has accumulated, forming steep sloping or quite perpendicular banks, which at the top are worn away into pinnacles, and excavated into deep grooves and hollows, I presume by the action of melting snow. The fragments of rock which it contained were all angular, or at most a very little worn at the edges.

Five or six miles from Sungnam, the road left the course of the ravine, and began rapidly to ascend the steep spur which bounded it on the left. At first we followed a fissure in the clay conglomerate, which still had a thickness of nearly two hundred feet. Above, the ridge was rocky and very steep. When we had attained a sufficient height to overlook the valley by which we had ascended from Sungnam, I was able to estimate better than while in the ravine, the extent of the clay deposit. It was now seen to occupy both sides of the valley, and to be pretty equally diffused throughout, but certainly thicker on the left or eastern side,—in the upper part at least, for low down, just behind Sungnam, it capped a round sloping hill of considerable elevation to the right of the little streamlet and of the road. The valley did not narrow at the lower extremity, where it debouched into that of the Ruskalan, so much as to give any reason for supposing that it could have been closed by a barrier, so as to form a lake. Indeed, the absolute elevation of the conglomerate was so great at the upper end of the valley, that it would be necessary to suppose a barrier several thousand feet above the bed of the Ruskalan to produce such an effect. The greater thickness of the conglomerate in the upper part of the ravine, and the almost complete angularity of the fragments, were equally opposed to such a view. Nor was I able to form any probable conjecture as to the mode in which these accumulations had been formed.

ROCKS OF HANGARANG.
August, 1847.

In the earlier part of the day's journey, the rock, where exposed, was invariably clay-slate, not different in appearance from that which, commencing at Lipa, had been observed on every part of the Runang ridge. It dipped generally at a high angle, but was often much contorted. In the upper part of the ravine, thick beds of a hard cherty quartz rock alternated with the slate; and in the course of the last steep ascent, at an elevation of about 13,500 feet, the first limestone was observed. It was of a dark blue colour, very hard, coarsely stratified, and much veined with white calcareous spar. It seemed to dip at a high angle towards the north-east.

The ridge by which we ascended was quite bare of trees and exceedingly barren, producing very little vegetation of any sort, and no novelty, till we had almost attained an elevation of 14,000 feet. We then observed bushes of a species of Caragana (C. versicolor), the Dama of the Tibetans, a very curious stunted shrub, which is very extensively distributed at elevations which no other woody plants attain, and which, therefore, is much prized and extensively used as fuel. I had not met with it before, nor does it appear to extend at all into the wooded region of the Himalaya. We encamped on a flat piece of ground at 14,000 feet. Notwithstanding the elevation, the heat of the sun was very great during the day, but the evening and night were extremely cold.

HANGARANG PASS.
August, 1847.

Early next morning a short steep ascent of about 800 feet brought us to the top of the pass, which has an elevation of 14,800 feet above the sea. The Dama, in green patches from two to four feet in diameter, was abundant till near the summit. The pass occupies a hollow in the ridge, which rises considerably on both sides. To the north-west, on the northern exposure, there was at a short distance one small patch of snow, from which the pass and surrounding mountains were otherwise quite free. No remarkable difficulty of breathing was experienced by any of the party, except immediately after any exertion. The ascent was latterly so steep, that it was necessary to stop frequently to take breath, and the pulse was found to be very considerably accelerated when counted immediately after walking. There was, however, a great difference according to the individual; in one case it rose as high as 136; but a few minutes' rest restored it nearly to the usual standard.

At the crest of the pass, the rock was a hard bluish-grey limestone, traversed in every direction by numerous crystalline veins. I ascended the hill to the south-east, to an elevation of nearly 16,000 feet, which was within a few hundred feet of the summit. At that height it was composed of a mass of loose fragments of black slate, perfectly moveable, and so steep, that it was difficult to progress in an upward direction. Vegetation had almost disappeared; more, however, from the moveable shingly soil than from the elevation attained, for wherever a solid rock peeped out, straggling plants still lingered; the rhubarb, Biebersteinia, a minute saxifrage, and a yellow lichen, were the species which attained the greatest altitude.

The view from the summit of the pass, and the steep hill above it, was extensive, but very desolate. In the direction of our previous journey, the rounded outline of the Runang range bounded the view, but in front a much wider and more diversified extent of country was embraced. To the eastward, the lofty mountain of Porgyul was seen almost to its base; its upper part a magnificent mass of snow, the summit being upwards of 22,000 feet in height. To the north of Porgyul, where the valley of the Piti river allowed the distant mountains to be seen, a succession of ranges rose one beyond another, the furthest evidently at a great distance, and covered with heavy snow[7].

The vegetation at the summit of the ridge was even more scanty than on the Runang pass. There was, however, more novelty in species than I had met with there. A grass, several saxifrages, Potentillæ and Seda, a little Thermopsis, an Anemone, and a beautiful Delphinium (D. Brunonianum, Royle), were the new species observed; and these, I believe, (as was indeed to be expected from the minuteness with which the country had been investigated by Dr. Royle's collectors,) were all previously described species.

HANGO.
August, 1847.

From the pass the descent was pretty steep all the way to Hango, a small village, elevated 11,500 feet. The road lay on the side of a ravine, keeping the hills on the left hand, and the channel of the stream on the right. The Dama, which had disappeared at the summit, was again plentiful on the northern slope; and a shrubby species of Potentilla, quite new to me, was exceedingly common. Otherwise, little change was visible. The road was good, but the hills were dry and stony.

The village of Hango, notwithstanding its great elevation, has a considerable extent of cultivation, though I think the corn was less luxuriant than at lower levels. The wheat was still green, and rather scanty, a good deal of a wild oat (perhaps Avena fatua) being mixed with it; but the barley was stronger and more productive. There was also a number of fields of Hordeum Ægiceras, that curious awnless monstrous barley, which seems peculiar to the higher regions of Tibet, where it is very frequently cultivated. This grain was much further advanced than the wheat, being nearly ripe. The arable lands of Hango are nearly destitute of trees, a few willows being the only arboreous vegetation. They are abundantly supplied with water, circulating in copious rills among the different fields, which are disposed in terraces one above another, faced by walls about three feet in height. On the margins of the cultivation, stimulated by the moisture derived from the irrigation, there was a very abundant growth of shrubs, and of luxuriant herbaceous plants. The gooseberry, Hippophaë, and rose, were the shrubs, and several large Umbelliferæ, one of which was closely allied to the Assafœtida, a tall Thalictrum, a yellow-flowered Medicago, Verbascum Thapsus, two species of thistle, the common henbane, dock, mint, Plantago, and various species of Artemisia, were the most common herbaceous plants.

HANGO VALLEY.
August, 1847.

On the 24th of August we proceeded to Lio, a village on the right or west bank of the Piti river. The road crosses the small stream which runs past Hango, a little below the village, and gradually ascends the slope of the hill on its left bank. Close to the stream there is a bank of clayey alluvium, with stones, and traces of it may be seen at intervals for some distance down the valley, but it is nowhere of any great thickness. The hill along which the road lay was composed of a cherty sandstone of a light-blue colour, often nearly white; in fragments, and especially when pulverized, it was quite so; and being extremely brittle, the slopes were covered with fine white dust, the glare of which, in the bright sunshine, was very unpleasant. On this gravelly ascent the vegetation was equally scanty, and much the same in character as at moderate elevations on the two previous days; a large thistle, species of Artemisia, Chenopodiaceæ, and a spinous Astragalus, being the most abundant plants.

The road continued to ascend gently for about half a mile, rapidly increasing its height above the stream, which had a considerable slope. The next two miles were tolerably level, over a good but stony road, at an elevation a little under 12,000 feet. A species of Crambe, with a long fusiform root, smelling somewhat like a turnip, was common along this part of the road. The young leaves of this plant are used by the Tibetans as a pot-herb, and are said to be well-flavoured. A species of currant (R. glandulosum), with viscid, glandular, very aromatic-smelling leaves, was also met with; its fruit, now ripe, had a sweetish taste, but no flavour. It is a common Tibetan species, extending on the Indus as low down as 6500 feet.

THE PITI RIVER.
August, 1847.

An abrupt descent followed, of not less than seven or eight hundred feet, into a wide steeply-sloping valley, descending from the north to join that of Hango. On the surface of this hollow, the road passed among a multitude of large angular boulders of limestone, irregularly scattered over the surface. This limestone was much like that of the Hangarang pass, and as it nowhere occurred in situ on the road, the boulders must have come from the hills on the upper part of the lateral ravine. A small spring of water and a solitary willow marked the centre of the valley, beyond which the road again ascended slightly, till on rounding a corner, the Piti river came into view, at the bottom of a most remarkable rocky ravine. Full in front, just beyond the river, was a scarped rock of great height; it was of a dark grey colour, and was traversed in every direction by immense white veins. Round this precipice, which seemed to project beyond the general mass, the river swept in a deep curve, of which the convexity was towards me.

The mountains on the right bank of the river, which formed the termination of the range on which I stood, seemed not less steep than those opposite, for the road, instead of passing round them without change of level, rose rapidly as it turned to the left, till it had attained an elevation of at least 12,000 feet, at which height it wound among precipitous rocks of hard dark slate, covered with bushes of Ephedra, and scattered trees of Juniperus excelsa. When fairly round the rocky projecting range, the village of Lio was discovered more than 2000 feet below, in a narrow ravine, on the bank of a small stream descending from the north-west, and close to its junction with the Piti river. The descent was very abrupt, in a rocky ravine among large boulders, partly of slate, partly of granite. This rock occurred in thick veins in the clay-slate, most abundantly on the lower part of the precipices which rose on the left hand during the descent.

LIO.
August, 1847.

Lio, at an elevation of 9600 feet above the sea, is a considerable village, with a large tract of cultivation, disposed in terraces from three to six feet above one another. The crops of wheat and barley had been all cut, but there were many fields of buckwheat in full flower, and of millet (Panicum miliaceum) still quite green. Numerous apricot-trees, from which the fruit had long been gathered, were interspersed among the cultivated lands. Surrounded on all sides by very precipitous mountains, which reflect the sun's rays, Lio appears to enjoy a great amount of heat, and the weeds which bordered the corn-fields were rank and abundant, and included many species which had not been seen at the higher villages. Salvia glutinosa, almost the only remaining Simla plant, burdock, sow-thistle, lucerne, and melilot, were the commonest weeds. A little Cuscuta was common on these latter. No tree of any kind occurred in the valley, nor on the slopes on either side. Elevation could not be the cause of this, the height being much lower than the line of upper limit of tree vegetation in the outer Himalaya, and the temperature of the valley, as was evident from the kinds of grain cultivated, very much greater than it would have been at the same level, in the more rainy climates nearer the plains of India.

The ravine through which the Lio stream runs is narrow and rocky, and contains a great number of transported blocks of various sizes, scattered irregularly over the surface. Close to the village there is a curious isolated rock, separated by the stream from the mountain mass with which it has evidently once been connected.

CROSS THE PITI RIVER.
August, 1847.

On the 25th of August we crossed the Piti river, a little above Lio, and ascended to the village of Nako, on a very steep ridge, which descended from the great mountain Porgyul. After leaving the cultivated lands of Lio, which extend for half a mile from the upper part of the village, we ascended the right bank of the Piti river for nearly a mile, to a bridge, by which it is crossed. The river ran here in an extremely narrow ravine, precipitous mountains rising on either side. Its banks were steep, and covered with loose shingle, the débris of the precipices above. The stream is of considerable size, but much inferior to the Sutlej where we had last observed it close at hand, though I believe it is nearly as large as that river, at the point of junction of the two. The Piti runs in this part of its course with great rapidity, and is probably of considerable depth.

ASCENT TO NAKO.
August, 1847.

The bridge was situated at a bend of the river, where the rocky banks contract more than usual. It was similar in structure to that over the Sutlej at Wangtu, but much smaller, and in so dilapidated a state, that it could scarcely be expected to last another year. The ascent to Nako was throughout steep, the difference of elevation being about 2500 feet, and the distance not more than two miles and a half. When at a sufficient height above the narrow dell in which the Piti runs, a good view was obtained of the mountains by which we were surrounded, which rose on all sides in rugged precipices. The steepness of the cliffs allowed their geological structure to be well seen. The fundamental rock, wherever I saw it, appeared to be clay-slate, sometimes passing into chert or quartzy sandstone. This basal rock was everywhere traversed by innumerable veins of quartz and granite, which exhibited no signs of parallelism, but ramified in every direction. These veins were often of great thickness. Not unfrequently, indeed, the mass of granite much exceeded the slaty beds between which it was interposed; but its connection with other veins of more moderate size rendered it evident that it had been injected into the slate.

Behind the village of Lio a thick deposit of alluvial clay was discernible, which seemed to suggest the idea of the valley having formerly been a lake; and at no place where I had seen these clayey accumulations was this hypothesis so plausible, for the precipices south of the junction of the Lio stream, rose almost perpendicularly for more than 1000 feet above the Piti river, and approached so close to one another, that their disruption was at least a possible contingency.

The slopes, as we ascended, were covered with boulders of granite in countless profusion, and the vegetation was extremely scanty, Ephedra being the most abundant plant observed. On the upper part of the ascent the road crossed a little streamlet, which was conducted in an artificial channel to irrigate a few fields of wheat. The margins of this little stream, and a belt a few feet in width on both sides, where the ground was swampy, were covered with a dense thicket of Hippophaë and rose-bushes, among which grew thickly and luxuriantly a scandent Clematis, and Rubia cordifolia, mint, dock, and thistles. The number of species altogether was scarcely more than a dozen, but the brilliant green formed so delightful a contrast with the prevailing monotony, that what in a more fertile country would have been passed as a mere thicket of thorns, to my eyes appeared a most beautiful grove of graceful shrubs; and I lingered in the swampy ground, till I had traversed it repeatedly in every direction, and completely exhausted the flora.