A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



this fantastic gorge had, to my mind, lost nothing 

 of its singularity ; in fact, I think that it then 

 impressed me almost more than on the first occa- 

 sion that I saw it. After some miles of travelling 

 along this road, which, as you ascend, becomes so 

 narrow in places, that you could with ease throw 

 a stone across it, we eventually turned sharp to 

 the east, and emerged upon the plateau of Gya, 

 which presented to my eyes exactly the scene 

 that I had always imagined the true Ladakh to 

 be like. 



We had now left the rugged side nalahs of the 

 Indus Valley, and had come out on to a rolling 

 plateau of stones and gravel, that stretched away in 

 gentle undulations to the snow-fields that surround 

 it to the west and south, and over which the road 

 runs by the Tagalang Pass (17,500 feet) towards 

 Lahoul, and eventually to Simla. The village of 

 Gya is about 13,500 feet above the sea-level, and it 

 is a considerable place, with many Churtens and 

 "Mani" piles. I suppose that the fact that the 

 latter are here more extensive than is the case in 

 most places, arises from the devout feelings of 

 thankful Lamas who have safely crossed the un- 

 inhabited and inhospitable regions beyond, for Gya 

 is the last village of permanent dwellings to be met 

 with on this road, and beyond it the traveller sees 

 nothing but the black tents of the nomad Tartar, 

 the only inhabitant of the higher regions. At Gya 

 there are three trees, and these I bid an affectionate 



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