THE COUNTRY OF THE BHOTIAS 91 



Next day was a long march to Budhi, a principal 

 village of the Bians Bhotias. It is a long and tiring march 

 for coolies carrying loads, especially as there is not a 

 drop of water for fifteen or twenty miles. They call it 

 Nirpani (no water), and there are some very ugly places, 

 where even one false step would send the cragsman down 

 into the depths below to be swept away in the stream, a 

 swirling black icy cataract which shoots with hideous 

 velocity down its rocky channel, and into which anything 

 entering will never be seen again. No ponies can traverse 

 this route. Ours had been sent back long ago to Naini 

 Tal on account of this passage. We luckily came at a 

 good season, when the repairs had been done, and took 

 water with us and started early. The most jumpy part 

 of the passage was where there occurred stone -falls, 

 resembling waterfalls, which shot down from the cliffs 

 above, sometimes gravel and sometimes boulders of con- 

 siderable size. These you could see bounding a long way 

 up, and you had to wait at a sheltered spot for a lull, and 

 then rush across the gap and take your chance. Luckily 

 they always kept in the same course, and the stones 

 seldom lit exactly on the path ; but you could hear them 

 hurtling through the air like shot from a howitzer, and 

 as they went by with a whizz you felt creepy. The 

 natives told us that many people get killed by being hit ; 

 and they always do puja to the evil spirits of the Nirpani 

 before venturing to traverse its dangerous ledges. We 

 got by all safely and camped at Budhi in an open valley. 

 We had passed between Namjung and Irvajung, 18,000 

 and 21,000 feet high, through a slit comparatively not 

 much above the level of the Indian plains and excessively 

 hot. We seemed suddenly to emerge from a hot and 

 subterraneous funnel into a cool and open region, where 

 the vegetation was almost Arctic. The dense forests had 



