A Day after Burhel 205 



less strange it seemed to me than the migration 

 of birds. 



These men had left Yarkand in the spring, 

 with a caravan of charas and silk. Their first 

 difficulty was the Kilian Pass, 16,500 feet; at 

 Shahidulla the last Chinese habitations were left 

 behind, and the little party were engulfed in the 

 uninhabited labyrinth of the ranges. After cross- 

 ing the barren Dipsang plains and the Suchet 

 and Kara-Koram Passes, both over 18,000 feet 

 high, they had before them the two crossings of 

 the Shyok river, with the dreaded Sasser Pass 

 (17,000 feet) and the Karawal Dawan in between. 

 The passage of the Shyok river in the early 

 summer a tumbling flood of brown glacier water 

 itself provides sufficient sensation, of a kind 

 the traders would gladly be without. The pass- 

 engers and their merchandise in some cases 

 comprising all their worldly goods are put aboard 

 a flat-bottomed ferry-boat and rowed desperately 

 across the river. During the early summer the 

 question of crossing or waiting for a diminution 

 of the flood is often one for anxious debate. The 

 baggage animals are made to swim, being stripped 

 and driven in a herd into the tossing waters. 

 It is a sight to see the river dotted over with 

 ponies' heads, all being carried down stream at 

 a terrible rate and seemingly bound for destruc- 



