A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



less, like so many mountain ravines, open out and 

 become better going as you get higher up them, 

 while in many cases the volume of water in the 

 streams that come down, shows that these valleys 

 must be of some size. The only way to reach them 

 would be by crossing the river on zaks ; but I fancy 

 that they would well repay the adventurous sports- 

 man who should be the first to enter them. As we 

 went up the left bank I scanned these ravines, as 

 far as I could, with my glasses, but only saw ibex 

 on one occasion, a herd of eleven ; this was more 

 than I expected to see so low down at this season. 

 The best looking of these nalahs are opposite the 

 villages of Do-oo and Kubaz. The weather was, 

 by this time, extremely hot, and marching up the 

 confined valley very toilsome, especially as recent 

 rains had swollen the side-torrents, and in some 

 places carried away bridges, necessitating long 

 detours and occasional wading. The river itself 

 was so full that the stones being rolled down its bed 

 sounded like continual mufHed thunder. The 

 vegetation, as usual, was confined almost entirely to 

 the villages, and a very noticeable feature was a 

 thistle that grew almost everywhere, with a head 

 that resembled a huge spiked ball, probably an 

 Eryngium. 



The villagers of these parts are. not accustomed 

 to seeing many strangers, and, fortunately for 

 themselves, are too far away from the Kashmir- 

 Gilgit road to be impressed for forced labour, and 



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