498 Journal of a trip through Kunawur, fyc. [No. 101, 



dangerous road, which leads from Spiti into Kunawur, about seventeen 

 miles from Soongnum. 



From this turn the bed of the Spiti becomes much broader, and nu- 

 merous sand banks, or islands, are seen, some bare and barren, others 

 producing shrubs of the barberry, causing the river to divide into 

 many channels, which gives a pleasing effect to the scene. A walk of 

 four miles along the hill side, brought us at length to our encampment 

 beneath the fort of Dunkur. 



The fort and village of Dunkur are built high above the Spiti, 

 among the ragged spires which crown the time-worn rocks that form 

 its bank. This rock is inaccessible on every side, with the exception 

 of that by which it is connected with the main range of hills, of which 

 indeed it forms a spur, or offshoot towards the river. A stream 

 descends on one side of it from the heights, and in former days a 

 covered way existed from the fort to its banks, by which the garrison 

 were enable to obtain water unperceived by the enemy ; this has 

 however long since fallen into decay, and its ruins now alone serve to 

 mark the line along which it formerly descended. As a place of 

 strength, Dunkur was well calculated to hold out against the rude bow 

 and arrow warfare, as once practised in these high tracts, but as 

 a check to troops armed in the modern style, even without guns, it is 

 insignificance itself. 



The only spot I could find to encamp on here, was on a small patch 

 of grass, immediately at the foot of the cliff on whose crest the fort 

 was perched, and which towered up some hundred feet above us. Near 

 us were encamped a party of shepherds from Choomoortee, who had just 

 arrived to sell their wool and purchase grain. It is the custom among 

 these people to give an order, while the crops are yet green and on 

 the ground, for any amount of grain they may require, which when the 

 crop is ripe, is stored up by the cultivator until the summer of 

 the ensuing year, when the shepherd arrives with his flock, gives 

 the wool in exchange, and receives his grain, which he puts into small 

 bags, brought with him for that purpose, and drives his flock thus 

 laden back into Chinese Tartary. 



In the evening when the flock was brought back from pasture, I had 

 an opportunity of witnessing the mode of shearing. The sheep whose 

 fleece had been selected, were caught, thrown upon one side, and their 

 legs bound together, when a shepherd having sharpened the long knife 



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