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petty chiefs, of whom there was almost one in every small district. They are now under the authority of one person, having been reduced to this rule about 800 years ago.

Captain Gerard is very particular in his descriptions of the mountains, the rivers, &c. of the country: these descriptions taking a geographical character as ascertained by scientific means. We pass over many of them in order to group together a few statements relative to the bridges and roads to be met with in regions of such stupendous grandeur, Bridges are of different sorts. Sometimes they are of wood, sometimes of rope, and sometimes they are formed of twisted twigs, there being a certain number of cables for the feet, and others for the sides to hold by, connected with the lower ones by open wicker work. This last-mentioned sort of bridge must be very insufficient, owing to the materials of which it is made being frail, and incapable of much stretching. The curve, too, forms the sixth part of a circle. Accidents often occur; and the Captain with his followers were on one occasion in great danger. But the damage done was only to the amount of losing a tent, which was precipitated into the Sutluj. A variety of circumstances are mentioned which serve to heighten the idea of the insufficiency of many of the bridges; and when one endeavours to conceive the number of streams which descend from the mountains, the rapidity with which the torrents may swell, and that therefore the traveller may be constantly requiring a twisted-twig means of transit, the difficulties and danger of ascending the Himalayas, and of threading their passes, grow in magnitude upon the imagination.

Then the roads, from the nature of the region, cannot be good for any length of time. They "consist of narrow footpaths, skirting precipices, with often here and there rocks, that would seem to come down with a puff of wind, projecting overhead." Often the way is over steeply inclined smooth stones, with a frightful abyss yawning below. Where the foot has to be planted may be a niche so small as barely to admit the toes; or you may have to tread over gigantic angular fragments of granite, piled upon one another in the most horrid disorder. There are often deep chasms between the rocks, requiring agility to clear them. Sometimes the stones shake under you, being just upon the poise. "Here and there beds of hard snow, inclined at an angle of thirty or thirty-five degrees, are met with, to ascend or to pass which it is necessary to cut steps with a hatchet." What is worse, there "are inclined rocks, and great slopes of hard gravel, and small stones rolling under the feet, to a deep and rapid stream." Worse still, we should think,-at some places ropes have to be used to raise and lower the baggage; and "now and then flights of stone steps occur, notched trees and spars from rock to rock; rude scaffolding along a perpendicular face of mountain, formed of horizontal stakes driven into the crevices, with

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boards above, and the outer ends resting on trees or slanting posts, projecting from clefts of the rocks below." What nerves, to encounter frail scaffolding like this! Only such, surely, as those persons possessed who erected them. Captain Gerard speaks of one of these rude contrivances continuing for 150 feet. "Six posts were driven horizontally into the cracks of the rocks, and secured by a great many wedges: there was no support on the outer side, and the river, which undermined it, rushed with incredible fury and a clamorous uproar beneath." He adds these observations, the sentiment of danger being to our fancy wonderfully temperate and composed, considering the shaking, &c. "The shaking of the scaffolding, together with the stupefying noise of the torrent, combined to give the traveller an uncertain idea of his safety."

The following extract will contribute still to heighten one's ideas of what travelling is in the Himalaya, and also to conceive of the magnitude of the scenery, the character of the wonders, of the mountains, the passes, the valleys and rivers, of these heaven-kissing regions :

"The roads to the most frequented passes generally lead along the easy side of the dell; the other face is dangerous after 12 or 1 o'clock, and the people are well aware of this circumstance; there the snow is for the most part perpetual for 1000 or 2000 feet, the cliffs being too abrupt for it to find a good resting place, and after a certain quantity has collected, it cracks, falls outwards, and descends to the bottom, bringing down an incredible deal of rock and rubbish; consequently, at the foot of this face of the valley it accumulates, and from its quantity becomes indestructible. These snowbeds are sometimes found at 10,000 or 11,000 feet, and over streams they are often hundreds of feet in thickness, the upper surface being so loaded with fragments of rock, that the snow is not perceived unless by looking under the arch that gives passage to the river. Soon after the beginning of the rains, the precipitous side of the glen presents banks of snow eighty or a hundred feet thick, where it has cracked; and in this way some of the steep passes through the outer range become impracticable.

"When I crossed Manerung in August I could not get all my people to move till past nine, notwithstanding what the guides said about the danger of delay. We were on the rugged slope of the dell for more than two hours after noon, and there was a continued rattling of rocks almost the whole time; immense avalanches of snow descended, carrying with them many large stones and thousands of splinters, and some of my followers had very narrow escapes: twice I saw a considerable piece of rock pass with extreme velocity between two of them, not more than four feet asunder. It is the melting of the snow from the sun's rays that chiefly causes these avalanches, and during a shower of rain the descent of the stones is just as frequent as I witnessed near Kimleea, where many fragments of great bulk, dislodged from above, tore up the path at no great distance from us.

Large portions of rock fall yearly, and their effects are truly

dreadful they commit the most horrid devastation, and even stop the channels of the largest rivers for weeks. An instance of this kind is still remembered by some of the inhabitants of Belaspoor. About fifty-five years since, forty or fifty miles above this town, an immense mountain gave way, filled the bed of the Sutluj, and arrested the passage of the stream for above six weeks; during this time the inhabitants were anxiously looking out for the bursting of the embankment: when it did give way, the rush of such an overwhelming body of water may be more easily conceived than described. People were stationed on the heights all along, from the place where the stream was stopped as far as Belaspoor, and they gave notice of the approach of the flood by firing matchlocks. The news arrived in time to save the inhabitants, but the whole of the town was swept away. Many people are destroyed by avalanches every year; only in February last no less than eight were buried under one: this took place near the fort of Hutoo, at a part comparatively safe to many I have seen in Koonawur.

"The cold likewise causes the stones to be precipitated from above: at night, when I have been encamped at Shatool and Boorendo, where the thermometer was many degrees below the freezing point, I have been kept awake for hours by the continued falling of rocks, no doubt split in pieces by the frost.

"The craggy side of the glen is full of danger in every shape: you have now and then to cut steps with a hatchet in the snow beds, which are inclined at such an angle that a single slip would be destruction. I have often hesitated at such places, and many of my people preferred going round half a mile to avoid them; it was not so with the guides, who never stopped a moment, and they were so expert at cutting the steps, that although I followed them close, they had frequently finished their work, and were at the other side of the ravine, before I got half way. Those people, trusting to their activity, persisted in making the steps at such an inconvenient distance from each other, that it was necessary to strain every muscle to reach them. It is here, also, that the road now and then skirts the icy margin of a deep blue lake, where it requires great labour and time to make any kind of a path, which at best is very unsafe, from the declivity and slipperiness. The guides, if possible, always avoid the lakes, by a long circuit or by scrambling over the sharpest pointed rocks.

"On lofty mountains a depression of spirits and bodily debility, accompanied by severe head-aches, fulness in the head, oppression at the breast, and difficulty of respiration, with now and then pains in the ears, affect every body in a greater or less degree; this arises from the rarefaction of the atmosphere, of which I have had numerous proofs, for I have visited thirty-seven places at different times, between 14,000 and 19,400 feet, and thirteen of my camps were upwards of 15,000 feet: it is worthy of remark, that the Koonawurees and Tartars estimate the altitudes of the passes by the difficulty of breathing they experience in ascending them. Those who cross the outer chain, attribute these symptoms to the noxious qualities of a poisonous plant; but the best informed, who are in the habit of traversing heights where there is no vegetation, know well that they are produced by the height alone.

"It may, however, be noticed, that the difficulty of respiration does not affect every body equally, nor the same person at all times; and it probably depends in a great measure upon the state of his health, for when I have been the least unwell, I used to be troubled with head-aches at 13,000 feet, whilst I have experienced nothing of the kind at 16,000 feet. Boorendo, 15,000 feet, I had a severe cold, and I felt a sense of suffocation, while at rest, worse than I ever experienced at 19,000 when in motion.

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"Exertion of any kind, especially ascending hills, increases these symptoms, and at from 17,000 to 19,000 feet, head-aches are almost constant, and a person can scarcely take half a dozen steps without a rest.

"When encamped above 16,000 feet, the difficulty of breathing was really distressing, and I have often thought myself on the point of being suffocated for hours together.

"Few people who have not travelled over the same ground, can form an accurate idea of the length of time required to perform a journey of twelve or fourteen miles on elevated land. I have walked thirty-four miles in a country that would be reckoned mountainous, by most persons who have not seen the more rugged parts of Koonawur, with far greater ease to myself, and in less time, than a march of twelve miles has occupied me in higher places; an ascent of 5,000 or 6,000 feet of perpendicular height, is not uncommon in a stage, and after the elevation exceeds 14,000 feet, every mile, even where the road is good, requires at least twice as much time as the same space at an altitude of 7,000 or 8,000 feet. The depression of spirits and bodily debility experienced on lofty mountains, affects every body in a greater or less degree, and a friend of mine was more exhausted at an ascent and descent of 5,000 feet, upon elevated land, where the distance did not exceed nine miles, than walking from Nahun to Soobathoo, fortyfive measured miles: he performed this journey in sixteen hours, including halts; yet two of the ascents on this road are 2,600 and 2,200, and several of the others 1,000 feet of perpendicular height, and the descents are in the same proportion."

We pass over the accounts of the seasons and climate, the agriculture, the botanical and zoological features of Koonawur, in order to have room for a few notices of the human inhabitants. The character of the Koonawurees given by the Captain is highly favourable; and we observe that he detected several features belonging to them that closely resemble those of the Scotch Highlanders. Their food "is bannocks of different kinds of grain." "They occasionally take a dram of spirituous liquor, and at their festivals they indulge pretty freely." "The houses of the principal residents have names which are common to their owners, and indeed are more frequently used, especially in their foreign intercourse, than their own names: in this respect they resemble the Scotch Lairds, who are generally best known by the name of their estates."

Of the honesty, the frankness, the hospitality, and high honour of the Koonawurees Captain Gerard can hardly express too strong

a sense. Their confidence in him from the very first was so complete that it could only proceed from generous and upright principles. They lent him money and said it would be time enough to pay it back at "Rampoor in December." Putee Ram "gave me ten rupees, and told me I was welcome to a hundred if I required so much." The Busehur government assess them lightly, it would appear, because they are the only subjects in whom dependence can be placed. "It is only the natives of Koonawur that can be trusted with money or any message of importance." They are all traders, their chief riches consisting in large flocks of sheep and goats, which furnish them with wool, which, together with raisins, they exchange for grain. They lead a pleasant life, and are generally so rich as to be independent. Even the poorest of them are never in want, for if grain should become scarce, which is often the case, yet their large flocks furnish an inexhaustible store. The people dress comfortably; the climate is salubrious and bracing; but some of the inhabitants are troubled with goitres, or swellings in the neck; a complaint which has often been attributed to drinking snow water. But this cannot be the case, the Captain has stated; "for although the Koonawurees can get nothing but snow for some months in the year, they are not so subject to goitres as the people that live in the damp grounds, in the forest at the foot of the hills, where there can never be any snow water."

The religion of the mass of the inhabitants is Hindooism, but they have no minute distinctions of caste. The temples of their gods are magnificent, and adorned in a costly manner. Two or three are in most of the villages, and such miracles are ascribed to the deities to whom these religious houses are dedicated, as are natural enough for idolaters in the Himalaya. Scarcely one of them but has the credit of having removed some vast rock or mountain, for the purpose of rendering the roads passable, or for some other like serviceable achievement. The temples are lofty buildings, and have roofs in the Chinese fashion.

Polyandry, or a plurality of husbands, prevails in Koonawur; and nuns who profess celibacy are not uncommon.

We must now for a few minutes attend the Captain, after he has passed into that part of Koonawur which is inhabited by the Tartars, the subject occupying the second section of the account.

The upper parts of Koonawur, we are told, are arid in the extreme, and the scene of desolation is scarcely to be credited; presenting a striking contrast between this extraordinary region and the lower tracts. A perpetual solitude seems to reign, so that the traveller feels an indescribable sensation of loneliness,―of being forsaken and forlorn. There is not even the crashing of falling rocks to disturb him. Then there is no stupendous scenery, no bold crags, no waving pines, no romantic valleys flanked by mural ramparts of

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