THE CHARLUNG VALLEY. 117 



beautiful rock-salt, in veins as white as snow, 

 and perfectly free from grit. There was plenty 

 of it, he said, a little way up the mountain 

 behind the village. 



After descending the valley some distance we 

 entered a small ravine which looked like a cut 

 de sac, for we soon found ourselves at the base 

 of a cliff 300 feet high. At first we could see 

 no way up, but Barat pointed out a tortuous 

 path which wound up through clefts and crevices. 

 He said we must unload and carry everything 

 up bit by bit, and that the ponies would have 

 to be shoved and hauled up as best we could ! 

 It certainly did look a nasty place, and various 

 remains of deceased ponies lying about at the 

 base did not afford us much encouragement. 

 By dint of hard labour we at last got every- 

 thing up to the shelf above the precipice, but 

 not before dark, when the ponies, seeming to 

 realise the situation, did their best. 



Our way lay over the Kara Dawan, or black 

 pass, so called from the colour of the formation 

 of which it is composed ; and then we turned 

 up a ravine towards the Kizil Dawan, or red 

 pass. 



It was a long " travel," but during the day we 



