A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



small village of Chanagand, and here we were to 

 leave the main road to Leh and follow the Dras 

 River to its junction with the Indus. On the opposite 

 side was Kirkichu, the fertility of whose terraced 

 fields, at this time green with sprouting corn, was a 

 welcome relief after the glare of the stony wastes 

 along which we had been travelling all day. A 

 sharp descent led us down to the rickety bridge 

 by which the river is crossed, and the path, already 

 very different to the main road which we had just 

 left, led up the side of a steep hill. One of the first 

 features of a view in Baltistan that strikes the traveller 

 is a green streak that is generally to be seen near 

 any village, running almost horizontally along the 

 barren face of the mountain, often crossing ap- 

 parently inaccessible precipices ; this is, in fact, the 

 little irrigation channel that, starting far up in some 

 mountain ravine, brings down the water to which 

 the village owes its fertility, and in fact, its exist- 

 ence ; the vivid green is produced by the herbage 

 and even little shrubs which spring up on these 

 apparently sterile places if only there is a constant 

 supply of water. There is one of these ducts high 

 up on the precipice above Kirkichu, and on the 

 occasion of our passing a breach had been made in 

 this channel, and the water, pouring down the 

 almost perpendicular face, had struck the path, and 

 flowing down it for a short distance, had almost 

 washed it away. However, we struggled through, 

 almost up to our knees in mud, and keeping a sharp 



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