CHAPTER XI

GURLA MANDHATA AND THE SOURCES OF THE

BRAHMAPUTRA

THE rays of a bright morning sun had scarcely risen over the tops of the hills which flanked the valley of the Koriali* river, when the sound of sharp firing echoed from the rocks opposite, and round the face of the crag on which the fortress of Taklakhar stood. Some of the Bhotias had gone up stream before daylight and crossed at a ford, and were now busy hauling with ropes to replace the beams which formed the bridge. The inhabitants rushed out from the town, but kept a very respectful distance. The blue rock pigeons, which roosted on ledges of rock above the water, flew out in flocks and were knocked over, so that our powder was not quite wasted; while the Hunias seemed the more convinced how useless it would be to resist our advance, and might depose with a good conscience that the sahibs were too well armed, and had outwitted them and beaten them in the fight. Anyhow the bridge was restored, consisting of three or four beams laid from ledge of rock to ledge, in a narrow place where the stream had cut a deep channel, and tied together with ropes to prevent them from separating.

* Written in some maps 'Karnali.' After piercing the snowy range, it comes out through Nepal as the Gogra to join the Ganges at Chapra.

On this rickety structure our party filed across, jhobus, ponies, carriers, and all in safety; while the Hunias looked on, gesticulating and shouting, but offering no resistance.

We had now a free hand to explore the unknown country before us, where Colonel Smyth had never been able to go, and where Mr. Drummond on his previous trip had not reached. We determined to strike in a north-east direction. Jussoo informed us that there was a pass over the great range which we could see in that direction, across the eastern shoulder of Gurla Mandhata, which would bring us out on to the countries east of Manasarowar, where were extensive jungles, frequented by few natives and famous as the haunt of the rarest of all animals, the bos grunniens-'ban chowr,' or wild yak. Colonel Smyth on his previous expeditions, further west from our present ground, had shot several old bulls and sent the skins to England, where they still are to be seen in the British Museum and at Manchester and in other museums; but he had always been told that further east across the second range, north-eastward, was the home of the wild yak, where herds of considerable numbers were said by the natives to exist, but the country was jungle, and wild and dangerous to enter. The rivers did not run into the sacred Ganga, but belonged to the bad country, so said the dwellers on the Indian frontier, and they dreaded to go eastward; but Jussoo and his sixty Bhotias had agreed to come as far as we could get while our supplies held out. We had flour and rice for thirty days, and expected to supply our larder with meat enough.

Our first march brought us over rolling hills cut up by wide valleys. We followed one which trended in the right direction, and our guides informed us that a road

could be found over a very high pass called Dak Eo, between great walls of rock. The name in local language meant the 'Gate of Death.' If we could pass by this ghat to the real plains of Tibet, we should save about ten marches by not going round to the west of Gurla Mandhata by the usual trade route and past the Manasarowar lake, which we wished to avoid. The weather was extremely fine. Bright sun nearly overhead, deep blue sky, fleeced by a few white clouds; and for some time snow had not fallen on the heights. We pushed on rapidly, and made about eighteen miles, coming to camp in an open valley with a winding stream over sand and gravel, edged by short grass where our animals might graze. We had collected yak droppings and some roots of a small prickly bush like a broom, and soon had fires burning. There were overhanging rocks where the men had shelter and made themselves comfortable. We were escorted by two Hunias, soldiers so called, on ponies, who made their own camp not far off. They were jolly, harmless fellows, who gave us no trouble, and squatted on the ground and played some game like dominoes, and munched sattu (parched grain), which they carried in greasy-looking bags. They were sent by the Zung-pun to watch our movements, and report our whereabouts if we went where we were likely to bring trouble.

This march was an agreeable one. The sharp breeze kept us cool enough, though the sun's rays were roasting. We boiled the thermometer, and found our camp to be about 16,000 feet. The hills were quite bare, rock and stones; but in the valleys you could see blades of grass growing in clusters among the shingle, of a kind called 'bhuk' grass by the Bhotias (bhuk meaning hungry), because all animals get hungry when they see it, and stop to take a bite. Our ponies when we rode them used to

rush for every clump and take a mouthful. It was a sort of sheep fescue' grass like the Festuca ovina of Europe.

Here for the first time we saw the kiang, or wild horse. Several herds came to look at us as we marched, and galloped around, neighing and kicking up, but kept a respectful distance. They have big ugly heads, and tails and ears like mules, and a black stripe down the back; colour light bay with white noses. They have fine free action in the trot and gallop, and are fourteen to fifteen hands high, strong in the leg, and heavy in the body. We also were frequently saluted by marmots,* which screeched at us from their earths, standing on their tails, but nearly always scuttling into their holes before one could get a shot. They are not bad to eat, and have nice yellow skins.

Next day we marched twelve miles to the entrance of the pass. Here the country became wilder, snow-clad hills shining in their spotless whiteness against the sky, and we got glimpses of the five peaks of Gurla Mandhata towering to our left.

We ascended gradually and camped by a stream in a valley below the snow. Elevation by the thermometer over 18,000 feet. The animals had but scant pasturage, and the carriers were much exhausted. They cooked themselves, however, a good meal in preparation for the next day, which was to be a long march over the pass. The night was fine but cold (about 25° Fahrenheit), and we struck camp at 5 a.m., soon getting on to snow, which

* Described as Arctomys hemachalamus by Jerdon. It is larger than the marmot of the Alps, and fully double the size of the American prairie marmot. I have seen the three species in their native haunts, and, except in the matter of size, they are very much alike. Their burrows are like badger-earths, and they collect grass and make hay and store it underground for the winter.

was luckily hard, and the ascent became more precipitous. The carriers struggled on manfully under their heavy loads, but walking even without anything to carry was at this high elevation most distressing. Many sat down on the snow and declared their last day was come; but the Bhotias are fine, plucky mountaineers and fought it out well; a nip of brandy set the weak ones all right, and they knew that delay would be fatal. The sky was clouded over, but the day held up well. Sunshine would have been worse, as it would have softened the snow. The danger is of getting into deep and soft snow, and remaining there. If we had been in Switzerland, crossing steep snow slopes and crevasses covered with snow, with all the paraphernalia of ice-axes and ropes, we should have had a long story to tell; but the instinct of the yaks, which went on steadily up and up, picking their way round the ledges of glaciers and under rock crags, seemed never at fault. Their feet are formed to open wide and not sink in soft snow; and when a dozen of them have gone safely ahead, the men and, last of all, ponies followed on the well-pressed snow tracks. We kept on mounting steadily, but it was not till 2 p.m. that we reached the highest point, a ghat or passage between high walls of black basaltic rock, a veritable gate of death. Here we halted till stragglers came up, and boiled some tea on a lamp, and also the thermometer, which gave close on 20,000 feet. It was an exciting moment to have gained this great elevation. The scene was most weird, and the view of peaks and glaciers when the cloud occasionally lifted was stupendous and bewildering. Goggles, of course, had to be worn, but some of the carriers who had neglected to tie on their crape bandages were howling with pain and half blind. Some, too, were very sick, but a short halt and the commencing to descend put them in