A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



did not get away till 10 o'clock, rather a late hour, 

 especially as I had a twenty-mile march before me. 

 At the bridge, about one mile below Tashgaum, B. 

 and I parted, he going down the left bank of the 

 stream by a goat-path, on his way to the Shingo 

 nalah, whilst I followed the main road to Leh down 

 the right bank. For some miles we kept abreast, 

 and could almost have shouted to one another across 

 the torrent ; but some way farther down the gorge 

 my way led over a steep spur, while his path led 

 round some rocks just above the water's edge, and 

 the last view I had of B. was seeing him spread- 

 eagled, and sticking like a fly to a window pane, on 

 a perpendicular-faced rock just above the foaming 

 torrent, while Saibra, who was like a cat on this 

 sort of ground, was helping him over. One of B.'s 

 coolies fell into the stream at this point, but he and 

 his load were fortunately rescued. My way now 

 became dreary in the extreme, more particularly as 

 I was without my cheery companion. Up and down 

 we went along the stony and desolate gorge as I 

 then thought it, though on the return journey it 

 seemed all that was beautiful and fertile ; rocky 

 crags shut out the view on either side, and here and 

 there we had to cross a snow-slope. On one of these 

 latter a pony, the one carrying my tent, lost his 

 footing and very nearly disappeared for ever, which 

 would have been inconvenient. Soon after this I 

 met my first Ladaki, with his flat, cheerful, Mongolian 



face and queer little pigtail. He was driving a 



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