100 Diary of an Excursion to the Shatool [No. 170. 



himself with great difficulty and the loss of all his baggage. In no 

 month is the passage perfectly secure. It is effected with least difficulty 

 early in spring, as the snow then covers all the rocks which so much 

 impede one's progress ; but I am not aware that the natives ever attempt 

 the Shatool till the rains have set in ; and even on the other Passes 

 clear and perfectly calm weather is indispensable to safety. 



The scenery on the northern declivity is wild and savage indeed : to 

 the right are the magnificent black cliffs before mentioned, which, from 

 the summit, slope back gently in great fields of snow, of the most 

 dazzling whiteness ; deep beds also lie at their base. To the left the 

 mountains are more bluff and rounded but still greatly shivered. The 

 Moraine ends to the north in a steep escarpment, and latterly our 

 route over it, lay on the ridge of a very curious bund of snow, rubble, 

 and rocks, about sixty feet high, and very steep on both sides, and 

 apparently artificial as any railway embankment. Except that frozen 

 snow is substituted for ice, the whole scene greatly resembles the Mer 

 de Glace, and other glaciers of Savoy and Switzerland. A turbid stream 

 issues from the base of the great snow-bed, and is joined by several 

 torrents from the left ; the combined stream a little below flows placidly 

 for a while over a nearly level dale. During the day time the powerful 

 rays of the sun melt the whole surface of the snow beds, and these tor- 

 rents become unfordable : but at night, when all is re- frozen, they 

 are dwindled to mere rivulets, only supplied from the bottom of the 

 snow-beds being melted by the heat of the earth, and hence they are 

 easily crossed in the morning. Below the moraine, the mountains rise 

 steeply on each side, covered, especially on the left, with grass and 

 herbage, now of a rich raw- sienna tint forming a strong contrast with 

 the great beds of white- quartz masses, which on this side extend down 

 to the valley, reflecting a most intolerable glare. The path, a very narrow 

 and bad one, finally keeps close to the left bank of the stream, and so 

 continues to Ateeng Wodar, a summer station for shepherds, equivalent 

 to the chalets of the Alps, except that the Himalayan mountaineer is 

 generally content with the shelter of a cave in the rocks, sometimes a 

 little improved by a rude wall in front. Ateeng is nearly in the latitude 

 of Rampoor, a short distance above the birch forest, about 12,000 feet 

 above the sea, and perhaps nine miles from the crest of the Pass. The 

 valley is narrow, and destitute of the savage features it possesses above, 





