Leaving Ramnagar on the morning of the 27th, I continued to ascend the valley of the Tawi for about three miles, the road running along the sides of the hills among rich cultivation at a considerable height above the stream. It then descended somewhat abruptly to the river, and soon crossed to the right bank, from which a steep ascent commenced at once, and continued, with one or two interruptions of level cultivated ground, to the end of the day's journey. The ascent had throughout a southern exposure, and was in consequence generally bare of trees, and dry and grassy. Much cultivated land was met with, wherever the ground was sufficiently level to admit of it. I encamped at a small village, or rather cluster of farmhouses, called Garta, at a height of about 5800 feet. From the bare grassy nature of the ascent and its hot sunny exposure, the number of species of plants which occurred was very limited, and the change of vegetation much less marked than in better-wooded regions of these mountains. A few oaks (Q. lanata) made their appearance about half-way up, or perhaps at 4500 feet.

During this day's journey, I believe that I passed the point of contact of the tertiary sandstone with the more ancient rock, for on the ascent after crossing the river, the strata were very highly inclined, and often bent into large curves. The rock was also more indurated, and different in colour and appearance from that of the outer hills. I did not, however, observe the place where the change took place.

Next day, the ascent continued equally steep and bare as the day before, and there was still much cultivation, wherever the surface was sufficiently level for the purpose, or could be made so by means of terracing. During the preceding day's march, the fields of wheat and barley had been for some time cut, but here, though generally ripe, they were still standing. On attaining an elevation of about 7000 feet, the steep spur which I had been ascending joined the main ridge, and the road, turning to the east, entered a thick forest of small oak-trees (Q. lanata) through which it continued, alternately descending and ascending a little, as it entered the recesses or advanced along the projecting ridges. The greatest height attained may have been about 8000 feet, and the summit of the range, which was frequently visible, did not seem to be above 1000 feet higher. After about three miles of forest, the hills again became bare, and continued so till the end of the march, which terminated by an abrupt descent of 600 or 700 feet to a ravine, and an equally steep ascent to the village of Pata, which was elevated about 7500 feet. Throughout the day, the vegetation, both in the forest and on the open tracts, was identical with that of the Simla hills. The forest consisted of oak, Rhododendron, and Andromeda. Pines were visible at the very top of the ridge, but did not cross to the southern exposure: they appeared to be Picea Webbiana (Pindrow). The village at which I encamped was of considerable size, with extensive wheat cultivation, very luxuriant and in full ear, but still quite green. Many trees of the glabrous holly-leaved oak were scattered among the fields, which, from the lateral branches having been lopped off by the villagers, rose to a great height with an erect poplar-like trunk, bearing only a small tuft of branches at the top, in a manner very foreign to the usual habit of the tree.

On the 29th of May I crossed the range along which I had travelled the previous day, and descended into a valley watered by a tributary of the Chenab, running towards the north-west. The ascent, which was bare and grassy, amounted only to about 1000 feet in perpendicular height. Close to the top, a few trees of Picea made their appearance, while I was still on the south face of the ridge, and on gaining the crest of the pass, I found that the northern slope was occupied by a fine forest of the same tree. As the range was not sufficiently elevated to produce any really alpine plants, the vegetation presented little worthy of note. Viburnum nervosum was the commonest shrub, and an Anemone, a Ranunculus, the common Gypsophila and Trifolium repens were the herbs which predominated at the top.

The road descended rapidly through fine forest. The sombre silver fir was, after a short descent, mixed with plenty of horse-chesnut and sycamore, and of the glabrous-leaved oak. Lower down, deodar and Abies Smithiana also appeared, and on arriving in the valley, the forest gave place to cultivated fields, with only a few oak-trees scattered among them. The road now ascended the valley, which was tolerably open and well cultivated. The stream ran through a deep ravine, with steep, well-wooded, often rocky banks, far below the level of the cultivation. I encamped at an elevation of about 6800 feet, at a village called Dadu, or Doda, situated on the edge of a small open plain, covered with luxuriant crops of wheat.

Near the village, and along the edges of the cultivation, were numerous apricot-trees of large size; and a willow, apparently the same which occurs in Kashmir (S. alba) was commonly planted. The general appearance of the place was very much that of the villages in lower Kunawar; and I was much interested to find that although the greater part of the vegetation was the same as is common in the outer ranges of the mountains, a few plants indicative of a drier climate were to be seen. I was particularly surprised to find that Quercus lanata, Rhododendron arboreum, and Andromeda ovalifolia, three trees which are everywhere most abundant in the outer ranges of the Himalaya in the temperate zone, had entirely disappeared. The Kashmir Fothergilla was not uncommon, and I noted at least four or five herbaceous plants, which I had first met with in that valley or in Kunawar.

On the northern face of this range, between Pata and Dadu, the sandstone, which had continued since I left the valley of the Tawi, was replaced by a succession of metamorphic slates, sometimes very micaceous. In the valley of Dadu, boulders of gneiss, with crystals of felspar from one to three inches in length, were common, but the rock did not occur in situ.

The range of mountains bounding the valley on the south, did not appear to rise anywhere to a greater height than between 9000 and 10,000 feet, and where I crossed it, was not, I should think, higher than 8500. Immediately to the east of this low pass, however, it began to rise rapidly, and at the head of the valley lay a high snowy mountain, evidently a projecting peak of a long range descending from the north-east, and forming the boundary between the basins of the Chenab and the Ravi. This range, which in most places must be upwards of 11,000 feet, and which in some probably rises to 14,000, must, I think, to some extent check the progress of the masses of clouds during the monsoon, and therefore tend to diminish the quantity of rain, particularly as the rain-clouds come from the eastward, on which account the lower altitude of the ridge to the south-west is of less importance.

Halting at Dadu on the 30th of May, my road on the 31st lay up the valley towards the snowy range to the eastward. Cultivation did not continue beyond the village; and after a steep, somewhat rocky ascent and descent over a bare spur, I followed the course of the stream as nearly as the precipitous nature of its banks would permit, through a forest of sycamore, walnut, alder, horse-chesnut, and holly-leaved oak. Pines also were abundant, of the four common species: namely, deodar, spruce, silver fir, and Pinus excelsa. After following the course of the river for about a mile, the road crossed a large lateral tributary descending from the right, and ascended a steep bare spur between it and the main stream for perhaps 500 feet, after which it ran for some distance through fields of wheat still green, at first at a considerable distance above the stream, the bed of which, however, rose so rapidly that a very short descent brought me again to its banks. I then re-entered a beautiful forest, principally pine, in which the Pindrow was now the most common tree, bearing in abundance its erect purple cones. As the road rose rapidly, the vegetation soon began to change: Syringa Emodi, a currant, and other plants of the sub-alpine zone, making their appearance. The most common shrubby plants were Viburnum nervosum and Spiræa Lindleyana, both of which occurred in vast quantity. For perhaps a mile and a half, the valley was extremely beautiful; the torrent being rocky and rapid, and the forest very fine. The road then crossed the stream by a good wooden bridge, and a steep ascent commenced. As the forest was confined to the bottom of the valley, I soon emerged on dry grassy slopes. The precipitous nature of the banks rendered it necessary to ascend nearly 1000 feet, after which the road was again level along the dry mountain slope facing the south. The bed of the stream rose very rapidly, so that the road soon re-approached it; and when nearly on a level with it, I again entered forest, in which Quercus semecarpifolia, the alpine oak of Himalaya, was the prevailing tree. After about a mile, having attained an elevation of 10,000 feet, I encamped on an open grassy spot in the forest. The ravines facing the north had for some time been full of snow, but I had got close to camp before any appeared in those on the right bank, along which the road lay. A snowy peak, the upper part of which was high above the level of trees, lay to the south-east.

In the lower part of the ascent, the rock was clay-slate; but near my camp it was succeeded by the same gneiss, with large crystals of felspar, which I had found (in boulders) around Dadu. In general appearance, this gneiss was very similar to that observed on the mountains north of Nasmon, on the Chenab; and as these two places have nearly the same relative position as the usual line of strike in the north-western Himalaya, it is very probable that the rock is the same in both.

On the morning of the 1st of June, I continued to follow the course of the stream, ascending now very gently. The valley was open, and the road lay over undulating grassy ground, the forest having receded to some distance on both sides. Round my camp I had noticed very little in the vegetation different from what was common one or two thousand feet lower; but almost immediately after starting, I found myself among numerous bushes of Rhododendron campanulatum in full flower, and many other alpine plants appeared very shortly afterwards: of these, perhaps the most lovely was the elegant Primula rosea, which was extremely plentiful in hollow marshy spots from which snow had recently melted.

The ascent continued exceedingly gentle till close to the end, when, turning suddenly to the left into a pine-clad ravine, a few steps brought me to the crest of the ridge over which my road ran,—a lateral spur from the great snowy mass, which (as is often the case) was a good deal lower where it branched off than at a greater distance from the main range. After gaining the crest of the ridge, I followed it for a few hundred yards previous to commencing the descent. I had unfortunately somewhat rashly concluded, the day before, that the ascent during the day would be very trifling, and therefore did not carry with me the means of ascertaining the elevation of the pass; I believe, however, that it a little exceeded 11,000 feet. It was still in the forest zone. The trees were mostly the alpine oak, with a few scattered individuals of Pinus excelsa. At a short distance, on the more shady slope, and still higher than the pass, Picea was plentiful. The highest level of trees only rose a few hundred feet above me, and the lofty snowy peak which lay to the southward, attaining a height of probably little under 14,000 feet, was quite bare.

I reached the summit of the ridge between nine and ten A.M., at which time a dense mass of heavy clouds filled the whole of the valley below, while the sky above was perfectly clear. Vivid flashes of lightning were seen, accompanied by loud thunder, and the clouds were in violent commotion, being driven about by violent gusts of wind; but in less than half an hour they had entirely disappeared, disclosing a most magnificent view, bounded only by the grand snowy range beyond the Chenab, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could reach. Much nearer lay a second range of snowy mountains, evidently that which runs parallel to the Chenab on the south. Still nearer were other ranges of mountains, which, from the elevation at which I stood, looked like gently undulating hills. Immediately below, lay the rich and fertile valley of Badarwar, to which the descent was extremely rapid, down the face of a projecting spur, densely covered for the upper half of the way with forest. At the top of the pass, there were here and there, on slopes facing the north, large patches of snow, especially under the shade of trees, but on the descent it appeared only in the most shady ravines. As the elevation diminished, the same change in the forest was observed as during the ascent. The alpine oak and spruce gave place to horse-chesnut, sycamore, and holly-leaved oak, with deodar and spruce. Lower down, cultivation appeared, and the road, lying on the southern slope of the spin, was generally bare and grassy, with only a few scattered deodar-trees of small size. At the base of the descent, clay-slate rocks replaced the gneiss.

The town of Badarwar is of considerable size, containing, I should think, not less than from three to four hundred houses, all, however, small and without any indication of wealth. It lies at the elevation of 5800 feet, in the upper part of a valley watered by a tributary of the Chenab, from which it is distant, according to Vigne, twelve or fourteen miles. Round the town the valley is two or three miles in width, and completely covered with fields, rising in terraces one above another. Some rice is cultivated, but millet and Indian corn, neither of which were yet sown, are, I was informed, the principal produce.

The vegetation of the valley of Badarwar was hardly at all different from that of the one which I had just left, and the few new forms which occurred were for the most part Kashmir species. Quercus lanata, and the trees usually associated with it, did not occur; but Fothergilla was plentiful in the woods on the hill-sides, and in open exposed sunny places a Kashmir Daphne and Zizyphus were common: both of these species, however, are natives of the Sutlej valley. In the shady ravines a species of Philadelphus, and the Nima of Hamilton, were met with. Vines were cultivated near the town, as well as a few trees of Populus nigra, and a rough small-leaved elm, which grew to a gigantic size.

From Badarwar two roads were open to me, by either of which I could reach Chatargarh on the Chenab, from which place there is a road into Zanskar. One of these follows the course of the Badarwar valley to its junction with the Chenab, and ascends that river by Kishtwar; the other crosses the mountains to the eastward, so as to get into the valley of the Ravi, and to join the road which leads from Chamba to Zanskar. Of these I selected the latter, which appeared to present the advantages of being less known, of leading through a more elevated country, and also (as I was led to believe) of saving several days.

I started from Badarwar on the morning of the 3rd of June, and proceeded up the valley in a south-easterly direction, towards the Padri pass, a depression in the range which separates the districts drained by the Chenab from those whose waters run towards the Ravi. At first the road lay through cultivation. The fields of barley were ripe, those of wheat still green, and considerably more backward than at the same height in valleys more distant from the snow. The elevation of the valley increased gently but steadily, and its breadth gradually diminished as I advanced, the fields becoming reduced to a narrow strip along the bank of the stream, and then ceasing altogether. The road lay on the right bank, and was generally open, but the opposite slopes and ravines were often prettily wooded. After three miles the road began to ascend the hill-sides on the north of the valley, for about a mile gently, but afterwards more steeply. The hill-sides were bare, but on the opposite side of the valley there was a fine forest; and as soon as the road had attained the crest of the ridge or spur, the same dense forest was observed to cover the whole of its steep northern face, stopping abruptly at the top. As the elevation increased, the trees and herbaceous vegetation exhibited the same gradual change which I had noted on the ascent two days before, and I met with very few species which I had not collected at that time. In the shady woods on the northern slope of the ridge, I found the little Kashmir Hepatica, another instance of the extension to the eastward of plants characteristic of that valley. Near the top Thermopsis barbata was plentiful, in full flower, on open stony banks. The ascent continued steep to the top of the pass, the height of which was 10,000 feet. The top was nearly level for some distance, and was covered with large patches of snow. The continuation of the range to the north was undulating and grassy, and the hills of very moderate elevation above the level of the pass. To the southward they rose abruptly to a considerable height, and the ravines were filled with forest. I encamped on a grassy plain close to the top. The morning had been cloudy, and after eleven A.M. it rained smartly till evening; the temperature at sunset was 47½°.

Next morning, before commencing the descent, I ascended a ridge on the mountains to the south, to the height of about 1000 feet above the pass. The snow had evidently only just melted from the greater part of the surface; it still lay in large patches under the trees, and the spring plants were just bursting into flower. The forest, as is usually the case at that height, was principally the alpine oak. A rose, willow, currant, cherry, Lonicera, and Viburnum nervosum were bursting into leaf, and Rhododendron campanulatum was abundant and in full flower. The greater part of the herbaceous vegetation consisted of Primula denticulata, a yellow Corydalis, and species of Thermopsis, Anemone, Caltha, Onosma, Potentilla, Valeriana, Trillium, and Gentiana. I continued to ascend to the limit of herbaceous vegetation, stopping only where the ground was uninterruptedly covered with snow. The uppermost level of trees was still at least 500 feet above me. In descending I followed the course of a ravine full of snow, the sides of which were covered by a dense forest of silver fir.

After reaching the direct road from the pass, which I had quitted to ascend the hills in the morning, there was a short ascent over a low spur, and then a long and very steep descent, to the bottom of a deep rocky ravine, so narrow and sheltered from the sun's rays, that the stream was still covered with a great thickness of snow. Over this I crossed to the north side of the valley, down which the road ran for the remainder of the march, descending at first with great rapidity, but on the latter half much more gently. There was plenty of fine forest, but, as usual, it was for the most part confined to the south side of the valley. The road lay along grassy slopes, sometimes steep and rocky, at other times, where there was any extent of tolerably level ground, covered knee-deep with a rank herbage of dock, Polygona, thistles, and a variety of other plants not yet in flower. It was in general at a considerable height above the bottom of the valley, which was deep and gloomy, and filled with snow during a great part of the way. I encamped at a village called Langera, at the height of about 7600 feet, and was surprised to observe large patches of snow still lying on the banks of the stream, at least three hundred feet below me.

On the 5th of June, my road again lay on the left side of the valley, and usually along the hill-sides at some height above the stream, to which it descended only once or twice. The valley was very pretty, being generally deep and more or less rocky, and on the south side well wooded. For the first three miles, large patches of snow were seen now and then in the most shady parts, more than once covering over the stream. The forest presented a good deal of variety. Except Picea, all the common pines occurred, as well as horse-chesnut, cherry, elm, Celtis, Populus ciliata, and holly-leaved oak. Fothergilla was very common all along, and on the latter half of the march Quercus lanata and Andromeda ovalifolia made their appearance. The occurrence of these trees I regarded as a sure indication that the rains were somewhat more heavy than on the west side of the pass, and as a confirmation of the view I had taken when in Badarwar, that the climate of that valley was considerably modified by the occurrence of a high and partially snowy range to the eastward. Throughout the day's journey there was a good deal of cultivation, always considerably above the stream; and at the village of Deghi, at which I encamped, at about 5800 feet, the fields of wheat were being cut, clearly showing that the climate was much milder on the east side of the pass than at the same elevation in Badarwar, where they had been still quite green two days before.

On the 6th of June, I again followed the course of the valley, at a considerable height on the steep but well-cultivated hill-sides overlooking a deep and pretty glen. The slopes along which the road ran were bare, or covered with scattered brushwood, trees only occurring in ravines, but the opposite bank was usually well wooded. I encamped at a small village called Buju (just below 5000 feet), considerably higher than the bottom of the valley. The vegetation was in most respects (except the occurrence of Fothergilla, which was plentiful) what is usual in the neighbourhood of Simla, at similar elevations. Several species of the sub-tropical belt occurred, mixed with the ordinary plants of the middle zone, such as Marlea, Albizzia mollis, Olea cuspidata, Xanthoxylon, and others, and in the neighbourhood of Buju Pinus longifolia was common on the south side of the valley.

From Badarwar to the summit of the Padri pass, and throughout the descent, clay-slate had been the prevailing rock. It varied much in appearance, and latterly it alternated with a conglomerate, and was often very fragile, splitting into thin shaly layers. Near the village of Dewar, a hard bluish limestone occurred in considerable quantity, close to the river.

The general direction of my journey, while descending this valley, had been south-east, the elevation of the mountains on my left hand having been too great to permit me to turn to the north. On this march, however, about three miles from its termination, at a village called Dewar, I left the road to Chamba, which there crosses the stream and proceeds direct over low hills to the Ravi, while the valley (and my road) turned suddenly to the north-east. A little below my camp at Buju, the river resumed its former direction, and, uniting itself with a large stream descending from the northward, took a southerly course, to join the Ravi.

Along the valley, which descended from the north, ran the road from Chamba to Chatargarh on the Chenab, and on the 7th I proceeded in that direction. The two streams, at their junction, flowed through an extremely deep rocky ravine, so that I had several fatiguing ascents and descents before I succeeded in passing into the valley which I wished to ascend. I was, however, gratified, at the highest part of the road, where I turned for the first time fairly towards the north, by a superb view of the snowy range, towards which I was now travelling. On the 8th and 10th of June (having halted on the 9th) I continued to ascend the valley, encamping on the latter day at 8000 feet. During both days, many parts of the road were very rocky and difficult, with frequent steep ascents. At other times, when it was more level, very long detours were necessary, to pass deep lateral ravines. The valley was in general open, and the hill-sides only sparingly wooded, though at intervals along the stream there was a fine and dense forest of oaks, horse-chesnut, laurels, and Celtis. The ranges of mountains on both sides were tipped with snow, and from my camp of the 10th the snowy range in front appeared so close, that I could scarcely give credence to the assurances of my guides that I was still a good day's journey from its base.

Since I had left Jamu, the weather had been very uniform. The mornings were generally fine, with a cloudless sky and little or no wind; towards the afternoon, or if not then, certainly in the evening or during the night, clouds collected, and it rained heavily. This was of daily occurrence; sometimes the rain lasted for several hours, but before morning the sky was always serene. The atmosphere was hazy, as is usually the case in the Himalaya during the dry season, before the accession of the rains.

On the 11th, I continued to ascend the valley. At the commencement of the march, the hills were bare and open, and the vegetation was still entirely that of the middle zone. There was a good deal of cultivation, and the wheat was still green. After crossing several ravines, the road began to ascend rapidly through a wood of small trees of holly-leaved oak, interspersed with numerous small patches of cultivation. Among the corn, Adonis æstivalis, and a number of other common Kashmir weeds, were abundant, and apricot-trees were commonly planted. By degrees, other trees were mingled with the oaks, and the forest became very dense, with luxuriant undergrowth of Indigoferæ, Spiræa Lindleyana, and Philadelphus, and a vine was common, climbing up the trunks of the trees. Numerous open glades, covered with a luxuriant herbaceous vegetation of dock and other rank plants, were met with in the forest, which, though not so beautiful, a good deal resembled that of Mahasu, near Simla. On the opposite and shady side of the valley, the forest seemed to be chiefly composed of pines. As the elevation increased, silver fir and alpine oak began to appear, and soon became the only trees in the forest. The ravines were now all full of snow, the oaks were still in flower, and there was little or no vegetation under their shade, except in swampy places, where a bright yellow Caltha and a pink Dentaria were in full flower. I encamped at 10,600 feet, on an open grassy spot overlooking a deep ravine full of snow, which lay between me and the snowy range in front.

On emerging from the forest, which extended close to my camp, I found myself surrounded by a truly alpine vegetation. Rhododendron campanulatum, which is certainly, when en masse and in full flower, the pride of our northern Indian mountains in early spring, was in vast abundance and great beauty. The hills around were covered with birch; Rhododendron lepidotum, Gaultheria trichocarpa, Deutzia corymbosa, willows, and many other alpine shrubs, covered the rocks, and the moist grassy sward of the open spots was adorned with the brilliant flowers of Primula denticulata, Corydalis Govaniana, Gagea, Caltha, and other plants. The sky was brilliantly clear, the very heavy rain of the preceding day having, for the time, quite removed the usual haze, and the view from my tent was superb. The last village in the valley was many miles behind, and no cultivation was anywhere in sight. The opposite spurs, which rose, like that on which my tent was pitched, abruptly from the snowy ravine, were beautifully wooded, up to the limit of forest, while all above was covered with snow.

On the 12th of June, I crossed the snowy range into the valley of the Chenab. At starting, the road lay through forest, which covered the precipitous face of the rocky hill overhanging the deep ravine above which I had encamped. After crossing the ravine, which was full of snow, the road ascended a bare steep slope, which was swampy and covered with Caltha and Primulæ. Every other part of the face of the hill was occupied by a dense jungle of shrubs, almost impenetrable from the prostrate position which their branches had taken from the pressure of the winter's snow. Very stunted bushes of Quercus semecarpifolia constituted the greater part of this shrubby jungle. With it grew Rhododendron campanulatum, a cherry, and a birch, whose silvery trunks rose conspicuous above all the others. This dense covering of shrubs being confined to the lower part of the slope, the road soon rose above its level, and continued obliquely along the face of the bare grassy hill, rising very gently, and by degrees approaching the line of snow. I observed that the line of the highest level of trees varied much according to the exposure, being more elevated on the shady side than on slopes exposed to the sun. The snow level, as might have been expected, was extremely indefinite, varying with the degree of inclination of the surface, with the absence or presence of trees, and especially with the exposure. On the slope facing the south, it was about 12,000 feet, while on that opposite it descended among the trees several hundred feet lower. Close to the snow, among rocks and in swampy places, the alpine vegetation was extremely luxuriant and beautiful.

After skirting the snow for perhaps half a mile, I descended a little to cross a ravine, and immediately after began to ascend rapidly over snow, which was hard and firm, so that it was traversed without difficulty. Throughout the whole ascent, there were at intervals steep slopes and masses of rock bare of snow, and even on the smallest of these spots vegetation was making rapid progress, under the encouragement of a powerful sun and abundant moisture. The plants observed were all alpine: among the number were several Primulæ, and species of Draba, Potentilla, Sibbaldia, Ranunculus, and Pedicularis. The ascent continued steady to the top of the pass, which was a mass of bare rock, quite free of snow, and elevated 14,800 feet. The pass (the name of which is Sach Joth) was a deep depression in the crest of the range, which rose on both sides to a considerable height. The ridge was a mass of black slate rock, in highly inclined strata, on which no snow lay, and which absorbed so much heat from the sun, that a number of minute plants were not only vegetating but in full flower. Primula minutissima and a yellow Draba were common, and a little Ranunculus and Potentilla, with one moss and a species of lichen, also occurred more sparingly. The view from the pass was extensive to the southward, but to the north entirely intercepted by lofty precipitous ridges, distant not more than a mile. The morning had been beautiful, but before I reached the summit, a high wind had sprung up from the south, drifting heavy watery clouds over the crest, from which there were slight showers of hail.

The descent on the north side was over snow, commencing a few feet from the rocky crest of the pass. After the first few hundred yards, the snow-bed was very steep, and perhaps covered a small glacier. Further on, the mountains on both sides closed in so as to form a narrow valley, the course of which I followed for many miles, before I could find a bare spot upon which to encamp. The valley was bounded on both sides by exceedingly steep rocky mountains, sometimes quite precipitous, which soon became bare of snow. After descending rapidly for a considerable time, patches of juniper appeared on the hill-sides, succeeded by birch, and soon after by a few pines, which, from their shape, were, I believe, silver fir. A little lower, pines became frequent wherever the mountain-sides were not absolutely precipitous; Picea and Pinus excelsa were first recognized, and a little lower down Abies Smithiana; deodar did not appear till I had nearly reached the end of the day's journey. I encamped at 8500 feet, on the first available bare spot, among a few pine-trees.

From the summit of the pass till within a few hundred yards of my encampment, snow was continuous in the valley along which I descended, covering the stream and the whole of the level portion of the valley for many miles after it had melted from the steep sloping hills on both sides, on which vegetation was already making rapid progress. This snow-bed was not in the least icy, but consisted of pure snow, much compressed and often dirty. Its slope followed that of the valley, and its surface was quite smooth till close to its termination, where it was broken up into fragments by the fall of portions into the stream below. The greater permanence of snow in valleys and ravines than on mountain slopes seems to be due to its accumulation there during the winter to a great depth by avalanches from both sides.

CHAPTER XII.

Marked change in the Vegetation—Bridge over Chenab—Pargwal—Description of Chenab valley—Asdhari—Chatargarh—Road turns up valley of Butna—Vegetation of Chenab valley—Chishot—Snow-beds—Camp at 10,500 feet—Ancient moraines—Glacier—Camp at 11,500 feet—Rapid ascent along glacier—Camp on moraine, at 14,600 feet—Change of weather—Ascent towards pass over glacier—Cross Umasi La—Descent—Immense glacier—Encamp in Tibet, at 13,800 feet—Open valley of Zanskar—Padum—Great change of climate—and in vegetation.

As a great part of my baggage and some of my servants did not reach camp till after dark, in the evening of the 12th of May, I halted on the 13th. I was encamped in a very narrow valley, on both sides of which lofty mountains rose very abruptly. The spurs which projected into this ravine were all of very peculiar configuration, their northern face being uniformly quite precipitous, while to the south, though still steep, they were green and sloping. I ascended on the southern slope of the spur, nearest to my tent, to a height of perhaps 1500 feet, without obtaining any extensive view of the valley of the Chenab, though I afterwards found that I was not more than two miles in a direct line from that river, but that the rocky mountains right and left, retaining their elevation till they were close to it, completely interrupted the view in every direction, except directly down the ravine, where a small portion of the snow-topped mountains beyond the river was visible.

From the great elevation of the mountains which I had just crossed, I was prepared to find a marked change in the aspect of the vegetation, and I was not disappointed. The steep slopes were covered with a most luxuriant herbage, above two feet in height. A tall panicled Rheum was very common, and numerous Umbelliferæ, Silene inflata, Geranium, and Pteris aquilina were abundant. The most remarkable plant, however, from the extreme quantity in which it occurred, was an Asphodelaceous plant (Eremurus, Bieb.), the long scapes of which, from four to five feet in height, covered the hill-sides in countless myriads. These scapes were clothed, for nearly half their length, with a profusion of elegant white flowers, very slightly tinged with a pale yellowish green. I met, during the day, with most of the characteristic plants of the Kunawar flora; as instances, I may mention Ephedra, Dictamnus, Rosa Webbiana, Dianthus, and Scutellaria orientalis. The arboreous vegetation was much the same as on the other side of the pass. The right side of the ravine was well clothed with pines, of all the four ordinary species; the left side was usually bare, the northern faces of the spurs, which are generally wooded, being too precipitous, but in the hollows there were a few small clumps of trees, principally pine, walnut, and sycamore.

On the 14th of June I resumed my journey. The ravine in front was pronounced by my guides impracticable, and, as I afterwards saw, not without reason, as it gained the Chenab by running down an almost precipitous rocky slope between 1200 and 1500 feet in height. The road ascended the steep hills to the right rather abruptly, inclining to the north at the same time, till it gradually wound round the northern angle of the mountain range which formed the side of the ravine, when I found myself looking down on the valley of the Chenab from a height of about 3000 feet above the bed of the river. Unfortunately the day was foggy, with a light drizzling rain, or no doubt the view would have been magnificent. After rounding this rocky angle, the road ran parallel to the Chenab, but in a direction contrary to its course, and continued to rise very gently among shady forests, with scattered patches of snow. I conjectured at the time that an immediate descent was prevented by precipices below; and I afterwards ascertained from the opposite side of the river that such was the case. After about a mile and a half an extremely abrupt descent commenced, at first through dense forest, but afterwards among numerous fields and scattered houses, constituting a large village between 8000 and 9000 feet in elevation. Fruit-trees were abundant, principally walnut, of which there were many magnificent trees. The crops of wheat were not yet in ear.

Below the village lands the road entered a forest of deodar, and continued to descend rapidly. The deodars continued nearly to the river, a few hundred feet only at the lowest part being covered with high brushwood, principally consisting of Fothergilla. The Chenab (or Chandrabhaga, as it is always called in the mountains) is a noble-looking, rapid stream, running through a deep rocky channel. It is crossed at a considerable height above the water by a good and substantial wooden bridge, from which the course of the valley could be seen both up and down, to a considerable distance; and in both directions the river flows between lofty ranges of mountains, generally very rocky and precipitous, and often finely wooded. I did not determine the elevation of the bed of the river, but believe that it may safely be stated to be about 7000 feet. After crossing the Chenab the road ascended very abruptly to the village of Pargwal, in which I encamped, at an elevation of about 8500 feet. On the lower part of the ascent the forest was much more luxuriant than on the opposite side, and than it usually is on slopes facing the south: this was caused by the great depth and narrowness of the ravine through which the river flowed.

This day's march was rendered unpleasant by rain, which commenced about seven A.M., and continued to fall steadily till near sunset; the sky being completely overcast, and the day nearly calm. It was, however, very gentle, so that the quantity which fell during the day was beyond a doubt much less than would have fallen with constant rain for an equal length of time in the outer ranges of mountains, where no snowy range is interposed to stop the rain-clouds. It did not rain again while I continued in the valley; still one day's experience would of itself be quite insufficient to warrant any conclusion, were it not that the inhabitants describe the climate as tolerably dry. Their account is, that the rains continue lightly at intervals for about a month from the middle of June, after which they cease entirely. I have already pointed out that the climate of lower Kunawar is precisely the same in character, and these two valleys are equally similar in situation with respect to the mountain ranges.

I had reached the Chenab at a point a good deal higher up than Chatargarh, from which place the most frequented road into the Zanskar valley turns to the north. There is, I believe, another pass a good deal more to the eastward, the road to which leaves the Chenab not far from the place where I crossed it; but I was informed that it is at all times extremely difficult, and that the season was still too early to attempt it. I therefore proceeded, on the 15th and 16th of June, down the right bank of the Chenab, through an exceedingly mountainous country, and generally at a great height above the stream, but with frequent descents to cross lateral torrents. The mountains to the north were generally crested with snow, and dipped very abruptly to the river. The north-west face of each ridge was invariably precipitous, so that all the descents along the road were abrupt, rocky, and difficult. Many villages were met with in the valley, and much cultivation usually high up on the sides of the mountains. Poplars (P. nigra and alba) and apricots were commonly planted, but the favourite fruit-tree seemed to be the walnut. I did not see any vines cultivated. On both days the scenery was extremely fine, varying with every turn of the valley; at times the view from the top of the scarped precipices, which were frequent, was of the grandest possible description. The south side of the valley, where not absolutely precipitous, was covered with forest, most frequently of pine; and on the north side, on which the road lay, though the upper parts were often bare and grassy, or only covered with brushwood, yet the banks of the river were usually well wooded, and all the ravines, which were deep and shady, were filled with a dense forest of deodar, horse-chesnut, hazel, sycamore, birch, and Fothergilla, with many other trees. Pinus Gerardiana, which may be looked upon as more characteristic of a moderately dry climate than any other tree, inasmuch as it will not flourish where the rains are at all heavy, was extremely common. On the 16th a great part of the road lay through an extensive wood, of a species of oak (Q. Ilex), which I had only before seen in Kunawar, where it is not uncommon.

On the 15th I encamped at the village of Asdhari, at an elevation of 8800 feet, and nearly 2000 feet above the river. On the 16th my halting-place was Shol, a large village close to the Chenab, with an extensive tract of cultivation, quite bare of trees, except a few cherries. The elevation of my tent was here about 6900 feet: it was not more than fifty feet above the river. Opposite the village, on the south bank of the river, under a cliff which screened it from the rays of the sun, there was a very large patch of snow.

The early part of my march of the 17th was still along the Chenab, through fine shady forest, for about three miles, rising to the height of about 1000 feet, and again descending close to the water's edge. The road then continued nearly on a level with the stream, and became very rocky and difficult, planks of wood or rough bridges being laid in some places from rock to rock to effect a passage. Below this narrow rocky part of the channel the valley widened out on the north side into an open sandy plain, watered by a large tributary stream, descending from the north. Close to this stream lay the small fort of Chatargarh, the residence of the Thannadar of the valley, and of a small garrison of soldiers. The Butna, which here joins the Chenab, and up which my road lay, is a large impetuous stream. I crossed it a short way above the fort, by a good bridge, and, following its right bank for about two miles through oak forest, encamped at the village of Liundi.

The flora of the valley of the Chenab, as far as my road lay along it, continued to agree in most respects with that of Kunawar. As I descended the river, there were some indications of an approach to the vegetation of the outer Himalaya; but the number of species belonging to that flora which appeared was not great. A Zizyphus common in the lower Sutlej and in Kashmir, the common pomegranate, and a shrubby Desmodium, were those noted. This gradual transition in the character of the vegetation occurs equally in Kunawar; and as both the Sutlej and the Chenab commence their course in an arid climate, and enter the plains under the full influence of the rains, it is quite in accordance with what might be expected to happen. The change is in both valleys extremely gradual, and appears to be directly proportional to the diminished elevation of the mountains which run parallel to the rivers on the south.[19]