we journeyed on through the snow to Dras, taking again nine hours to do the fifteen miles. At this important stage, provisions, fresh coolies, and all manner of things can be bought, and letters can be had at the post-office if they have arrived; but on this occasion none had been received for five days, at the end of which time the news of the death of the two post runners was corroborated. From thence fresh coolies were to carry the loads, and the poor fellows who had done the work for the last five days were dismissed to return to their villages in their own time. This journey, too, they had done most pluckily and cheerily, over mountains deep in snow and a pass over 11,000 feet high, amidst almost incessant falling snow or rain, with no adequate shelter at night time, all for two and a half rupees apiece! At this small sum, too, they expressed much pitiful delight, for it was a rupee in excess of their real fare.
FIRST SIGNS OF BUDDHISM BEYOND LEH, AT MULBECK.
The fresh relay of coolies carried my baggage in two more days to Kargil, passing through Tashgam, a pretty little spot with a small plantation of willows, but the beauty of the place was somewhat marred by the snow that still lay about. At Kargil there is good accommodation, and supplies are plentiful; there are, too, some little nondescript shops. Thenceforth ponies replace coolies for carrying the baggage, each pony carrying a load of about 150 pounds. From Kargil the road ascends the hills and leads over rolling ground, while the adjacent hill tops become rounded, and the general appearance of the country is somewhat dreary. After twenty miles, the village of Mulbeck is reached, where one first sees the small monasteries of the Lamas perched on some pinnacle, and the piles of flat stones with their sacred writings, called mānés. From this point the road became heavy, owing to the mud, and soon after midday we came to the village of Kharbu, where I learnt that further on the mud was yet deeper and thicker, and on the rising ground I found the snow even worse. About five o'clock I arrived at another small village at the foot of a pass. Here the men demanded a halt, for they said it would be impossible to cross it that evening. Despite their earnest entreaties and clasped hands, I decided to push on. Soon after this darkness set in, before even we had reached the summit, and a biting wind, with driving snow, made our progress slow, so that at one time I almost regretted not having paid attention to their supplications. Just as we were about to begin the descent, one of the baggage ponies completely gave way and collapsed in the snow. This necessitated a redistribution of the loads, many moans and groans, and very nearly resulted in some frost-bites.
In darkness we stumbled down the mountain side, inwardly hoping that no other pony would collapse. As soon as we had descended low enough to be free from the clouds of driving sleet, we were helped by the faint light of the moon, and eventually at a late hour arrived at Lamayuru. Fatigue and a short night's rest disinclined the men for another early start, although the march from this place is perhaps the finest and most pleasant of any. The road follows a winding stream running merrily between grand massive cliffs and rocks, till at Khalsi it crosses the River Indus, where a small native guard is maintained, thence through Nurla on to Saspul. From here I had resolved to reach Leh in one day, so instructed my factotum, Shukr Ali, to urge on the ponies as fast as possible. This he certainly did with such a will that in four hours we had reached Nimo, while none of the pony drivers were able to keep pace; consequently at Nimo the ponies were without masters. Here we again changed animals, and starting on ahead of the loaded ones and mounted on a rat of a pony, about sunset I first gained sight of this redoubtable Leh. The first conspicuous object was the Lama monastery, and quite naturally too, for, as usual with Lama monasteries, it was perched on a hill of commanding position, while Leh itself, at first appearance, looked small and insignificant. With my goal in sight, I was not long in finding a way through the narrow winding paths, past the missionary quarters, to the rest bungalow, having been twelve days on the road. Here Malcolm was waiting for me, having arrived two days previously, and we at once set about buying our mules and ponies and in collecting our muleteers, for at present we had only Shukr Ali and Tokhta. We were told by every one that at this time of the year it would be most difficult to buy mules, so we were extremely fortunate in falling in with a merchant who had lately arrived from Lhassa, and who was willing to sell us fifteen. Although they were not in as fat a condition as they should be at the commencement of a journey, they were nevertheless hard, and formed the nucleus of our transport. Besides these, we were only able to pick up seven other mules, one here and one there, and were compelled to be satisfied with ponies for the remainder of our transport. These we found in no way equal to the mules for an expedition of this kind. If ponies have to be taken, the best are those which come from the district of Lhassa. Of these we had two, while the rest were Ladakhis.
BRIDGE OVER THE SURV RIVER AT KARGIL, ON THE ROAD TO LEH. BRIDGE ON CANTILEVER PATTERN.
In Leh three distinct kinds of mules are obtainable, namely, Yarkandis, Ladakhis, and Lhassa or Chang Tanis; of these the former are by far the most taking in appearance, and are mostly very big, standing 14·2 to 15 hands. They are, however, unfitted for a long journey when grass is likely to be scarce, and only a limited quantity of grain can be carried. The majority of these mules are black in colour. The Ladakhi mules are mostly brown; they are generally extremely hardy, able to stand great cold, and to do a lot of work on inferior food. Unfortunately they are hard to obtain, as only a very small number are bred, and some are too small to be much good. The best of all are the Chang Tanis, bought in Leh; the very fact of their being there shows that they have been able to perform a long march with loads on their backs; they require little or no grain, and are very hardy. Yarkandi merchants, as a rule, give their mules loads of 200 lbs. to 240 lbs. and about 4 lbs. of grain daily; the Lhassa merchants put about 160 lbs. on their backs, and, when grass is plentiful, give no grain. Altogether we mustered twenty-two mules, costing on an average 129 rupees each, and seventeen ponies at about sixty-one rupees each. All of them we branded on the hind quarters to guard against any attempt at fraud after the purchase. In collecting these animals and our men we were assisted by Lala Bishan Dass, Wazir of Leh. He also helped us in many other ways, and as he spoke excellent English, matters were somewhat simplified. Besides the two men already mentioned, namely, Shukr Ali and Tokhta, we impressed into our service six other muleteers, four of them being Argoons, who are really half-castes, arising from the merchants of Turkestan making short marriages with the Ladakhi women; also two Ladakhis and one Yarkandi. Besides these eight men and our sub-surveyor, Shahzad Mir, we also took as servant a Ladakhi named Esa Tsareng, whom we simplified into Esau, and refer to him afterwards by that name. This man had for some little time listened to the doctrines of the good missionaries of Leh, but eventually had reverted again to the Buddhist religion. For all that he proved himself throughout to be a most faithful servant and a useful and clever man, for he could read and write the Tibetan characters. We had one other follower, an Argoon named Lassoo. He was a very neatly made little man, cheery at all times. Besides being an excellent cook, he was also a first-rate muleteer, tailor, barber, carpenter; in fact, there was hardly any capacity in which he did not shine.
SHAHZAD MIR AND OUR TEN MEN.
The muleteers soon gave evidence of what sort of men we had to deal with. They were an avaricious lot of fellows, and in a body refused to come with us under twenty rupees a month each, and this amount in actual wages we were unwilling to give, for we learnt that former travellers had paid men of this description fifteen rupees, and we were anxious not to be accused by those who might come after us of "raising the price." Promises of high backshish to all good workers carried no weight with such men, till at last we dismissed the whole crowd of them. At this stage of our preparations the chances of our ever starting at all looked decidedly black—we had no men and we had no passport—still more so when we were informed that there were no other men in Leh who would go with us. Being thus cornered and time most precious, we were in the end most reluctantly obliged to take them at their own price, and having discovered in other ways the class of men we had to deal with, we inwardly reflected that the only way to meet with success would be to humour them in all they wanted, and we foresaw that if we acted otherwise no headway would be made. We also agreed to give them per diem two pounds of flour, rice, or parched ground barley, one