1839.] Journal of a trip through Kunawur. 925 



fall on the back, would have sent the unfortunate flying down into 

 the foaming torrent below, at a rate as rapid as that of a slider on 

 a " Russian mountain." We managed however, with much care and 

 fatigue, to get slowly and safely to the bottom, where we crossed the 

 river (which was furnished by the snows above) on a broken sangho, 

 formed merely of four spars laid close together, and rendered slippery 

 by the spray which was continually dashing over it. From this we 

 again ascended by a road not many shades better than the one 

 by which we had just come down, and it continued thus the whole 

 way to Ramng. 



We had also to cross many smaller snow streams, which being with- 

 out sangho or stepping stones, obliged us nolens volens to walk through 

 them, sometimes nearly up to the knee in water, at a temperature 

 of 38°, or only 6 degrees above the freezing point ! It was indeed any- 

 thing but agreeable, for we felt as if oar legs were being cut off, and 

 I vowed coute qui coute to cross the ghats on my return, whether they 

 were blocked with snow or not. The forest all along this march was 

 composed of Kayloo and Neoza pines. These names are only applied 

 by the inhabitants of the lower hills and plains, the trees being 

 known in Kunawur as the " Kelmung," and the " Kee,"and the fruit 

 or edible seed of the latter is alone called " Neoza." 



From Rarung we had rather a better road than yesterday, but still 

 bad, being chiefly over sharp blocks of granite and gneiss. This day 

 we encamped at Jung-gee, and again proceeded on the morning of the 

 4th of June towards Leepee. The hills on the road from Punggee to 

 Leepee have a shattered and decomposing aspect, vast masses being 

 annually brought down by the action of the frost and snow, leaving in 

 some parts high mural cliffs rising perpendicularly above the path to 

 eight hundred and a thousand feet, while at their base is stretched a 

 wide field of disjointed fragments of every size mixed up with beds 

 of sand, decomposing mica slates, and felspar. These slope more 

 or less gradually down to the river's edge, often at two and three 

 thousand feet lower than the base of the cliffs. If a snow stream 

 happens to descend near these accumulations, its waters are turned 

 upon them by artificial drains, and in a few short months the former 

 barren waste is seen to smile with young vineyards and rich crops of 

 barley. But if, on the other hand, as too often happens, there is no 

 stream near, the sands are left barren and dry along the river's course, 

 sometimes increasing from fresh supplies from above, at others parti- 

 ally swept away by the force of the river when swollen by the melt- 

 ing snows in June and July. In the descent of these falling masses 



6 c 



