A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



path cut in the face of the cliff, and occasionally 

 crossed galleries built out from the rock, and we 

 halted for the night at Chanagand, below which 

 village is the bridge by which I had crossed to 

 Kirkitchu, and so down the road to Skardo. 



Already our approach to more fertile regions 

 began to be apparent, owing to the fact that occa- 

 sional rain-clouds from the storms that break on the 

 other side of the Himalaya stray as far as this, and 

 the barren slopes were dotted with pencil cedar, 

 Umbu (Mycarid), wild currants, and rose bushes, 

 which grew amongst the boulders and stones. At 

 this point I joined the road which I described on 

 my outward journey ; but how different it now 

 appeared ! Independently of the fact that I was 

 now marching daily with pleasant companions 

 instead of by my melancholy self, I knew the road, 

 and each day's march accordingly seemed half the 

 distance that it did when I was " outward bound." 

 The valleys, too, which had seemed the most 

 desolate places imaginable after having just left the 

 fertile Vale of Kashmir, now appeared positively 

 luxuriant to an eye which had become accustomed 

 to the wind-swept uplands of Rupshu and the glaring 

 deserts of Ladakh. As we journeyed along to 

 Tashgaum and Dras I noted each well-remembered 

 spot that I had passed, as it now seemed, an age 

 before. 



The Plain of Dras seemed very green, and we 

 noticed that the clouds hung heavy in the direction 



245 



