CHAPTER XVII. 
MUS-TAGH-ATA 
I T was the 14th April when we set off to climb the 
great Mus-tagh-ata. Immediately after we started, 
we were met by a violent storm from the east, which 
drove clouds of fine drift-sand straight into our eyes. 
Having passed the two little lakes of Bulun-kul and 
taken a distant glance at the fort, we turned up the broad 
valley of Sarik-kol. For fully an hour we were followed 
by a big black yak. We wondered whether he was 
trained to play the part of spy ; but eventually he grew 
tired of keeping up with us, and stopped. 
The valley of Sarik-kol is a gigantic trench, piercing 
to the heart of the stupendous Pamir plateau. Sometimes 
narrow, sometimes expanding to a considerable width, its 
bottom is littered with huge boulders of gneiss and other 
rocky ddbris, all polished smooth by the action of water. 
At one place we came to a colossal erratic block of gneiss 
split clean in two, in such a way that we were able to 
ride between the two halves as though we were going 
through the gateway of a medieeval town. The valley 
itself was hemmed in on both sides by lofty mountains, 
the flanks of which were thickly strewn with crumbled 
and disintegrated rocks. Scantily supplied with pasture 
grounds, it was uninhabited except for a single solitary 
yurt. On the whole it sloped up gradually and easily 
towards the foot of Mus-tagh-ata. 
We soon perceived that we were no longer travelling 
m the Russian portion of the Pamirs. When we came 
to the end of our day’s march, we found no yurt ready 
pitched for us by Kirghiz sent on in advance. We were 
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