A COLD NIGHT—DEATH OF MULE—A FRESH-WATER LAKE—BAD WEATHER—DEATH OF THE FAVOURITE WHITE PONY—BY A SALT LAKE—ILLNESS OF TOKHTA—I SEARCH FOR MISSING ANIMALS.

We left our camping ground at Lanak La on Sunday, the 31st May, and failing to find the sign of any track running northwards, we tried to make out by which route Bower had gone, but our only map was drawn to such a very small scale that we could decide on nothing with any certainty. Riding ahead on our ponies, we found our easiest way was to continue up the nullah we were in, which led over an easy pass, from the summit of which we looked back over the Lanak La.

In spite of our extensive views, we could discover no route running in any direction whatever, and having come so far, we decided to give up all searching for routes and to find a way for ourselves, marching due east as much as possible, and, failing that, north rather than south. Quite naturally, therefore, we descended the other side of the pass just the same as any one else would have done, and then we found a range of mountains north of us, and another range south of us, compelling us to take to a rather narrow nullah which eventually debouched in the early afternoon into a broad valley some miles across, running in an easterly direction, and bounded north and south by ranges of snow-tipped hills. Thus the actual finding of our way was not such a difficult undertaking as one might have expected. We could see the valley stretching far away to the east, and calculated that we had some days of clear sailing before us.

We trotted on ahead in search of grass and water to halt by. Straight in front of us, we noticed what we took to be snow in the middle of the valley, but the nearer we came to it the farther off it appeared to be, and we were most anxious to reach that snow, for otherwise we saw no chance of finding any water. We finally concluded that it was a hopeless job to try and get there; and as the sun was setting, and a short distance in front of us we saw some antelope, we knew there must be some grass close by and probably some water too. Such proved to be the case; there was a small stretch of very short growth with two little pools of rain-water, as good a camping ground as we could have expected to find that night.

A strong wind was blowing from the south-west, enough to cut us in two, and as the skies clouded over pretty quickly, we had no chance of taking any observations. I really felt inwardly thankful that the clouds had come up so thick, for it is no joke observing stars with twenty-five degrees of frost and a keen wind. Unless the clouds absolutely obscure the view and one slips in between the blankets without attempting observations, one's conscience feels a prick of guilt.

Our mules and ponies must have suffered from the cold that evening, and seemed to find but little amusement in nibbling at the short grass. Throughout the night we heard some of them becoming entangled in the guy ropes of our tent in their endeavours to find some small amount of shelter from the blast. And it was a marvellous thing how the tent managed to stand at all.

Despite these and other divers annoyances, we both fell off to sleep till daybreak, when all seemed clothed in perfect stillness—the whole atmosphere was calm. It was difficult at first to collect our thoughts and to remember where we were and what had befallen us. Why was it we could hear no sign of man or beast? Something unusual must surely have happened. In another moment we were up and outside the tent; the wind had completely died away, and everything and everywhere was covered with a fresh layer of snow. The men were silent in their tents, some of our mules lay without moving, others stood with drooping heads, and, on counting their number, we found that several were missing. It was not very long before we found one of these latter; there he lay stretched out close to our own tent, as dead as dead could be. We felt sad for the poor brute, for little had we thought whilst we had been abusing him for fiddling with our guy ropes, that he had been actually dying from cold or from some other painful cause. We turned away from the corpse, and tried to forget our own selfishness.

At this moment the sun was just appearing and omened a fine and warm day, arousing us to the fact that the snow would soon melt, and if that happened, we should have no small difficulty in tracking the animals that had strayed. We at once turned out our men and sent some of them off on our stoutest ponies to search for the deserters.

This morning's disastrous work undoubtedly laid the seeds of many more deaths to come. As to our own riding ponies, which had been ridden by the muleteers in the search, so much was taken out of them that we were only able to ride them for a very few more days, and ever afterwards were solely dependent upon our own feet. The five delinquents were eventually found about five miles back in the nullah we had come from the previous day, but they were in so exhausted a condition that one of them could scarcely drag itself along, let alone take a few pounds' weight of luggage, in fact, he never reached another camp.

Even at this early stage there was no use blinding ourselves to the truth that there were a goodish number of the animals that could not possibly last out many more days. Had we been able to find good grass and water together, our best plan would have been to halt there for a few days; then, again, it must be remembered that during that period the men would be eating their rations all the same, and probably more, without making any onward progress at all.

It was almost noon before we were off, and by that time all the snow, excepting on the tops of the hills, had completely thawed, for the day was warm and pleasant. Again we fortunately had easy marching down the valley, and we went towards the patch of snow we had been so anxious to reach the previous day, but we never seemed to get there; the illusion was caused by vapour or steam rising up from the salt ground and hanging over it like a white sheet, and when we conjectured we were on the very spot, we could see nothing at all.

After fourteen miles we came to a fresh-water lake completely frozen over, having been seven hours over the march. Knowing how deceptive the distance is across such lakes at this great height, namely, just over 16,000 feet, we decided to halt where we were; besides, there was fairly good grass, and a bright moon for observations, but no water for the mules. The man, too, whom we had left behind to bring in the exhausted pony, had not turned up, and despite our discharging our guns pretty frequently, he never reached camp that night at all. In addition to all this, my own pony, which had made the march riderless, had some difficulty in struggling in. We here gave our beasts three bags of bhoussa, leaving us only thirteen more, and allowed them to graze till 8 o'clock the following morning. At that hour the sun had begun to thaw the lake, and on reaching the further side, after a most slippery walk, we found a small stream had just commenced to trickle, a great boon for our beasts.

That same evening, after marching over a stretch of undulating ground, with a certain amount of grass in some of the nullahs, frequented, too, by antelope and kyang, we came to a large salt-water lake. There was but poor grass around, but a stream of good fresh water. Ahead of us, on all sides of the lake, the land appeared absolutely barren and arid, possibly on the southern side there might have been a little hidden grass; but then, again, had we marched south, we did not know that we might not meet with another show of opposition, so stuck to our original plan of steering north when in doubt. We began at this early stage to recognise the superiority of the mules over the ponies, for three of the latter could only just crawl into camp at a late hour in a very weak condition.

Another snowstorm prevented us from making a fresh start before 11 o'clock, and as the snow had put a stop to the grazing, poor as it was, we prepared some bhoussa for our remaining thirty-five animals, yet only thirty-four came hurrying up for this much appreciated food. There stood the thirty-fifth, a few hundred yards off, gazing at the remainder, who had their noses hidden deep into the chopped straw. Poor brute! he could not reach the spot, his condition was so weak and impoverished; there he stood, resembling mostly a bag of bones, a grievous sight for us: for this was the very white pony who had been such a great friend of the black mule, and he had struggled hard for some days to keep up with the caravan. After he had been shot, we were glad to leave the spot to try and forget the sad event.

By reason of the late snowstorm, the going along the edge of the lake was heavy in the extreme, so much so that we lost a small black mule from exhaustion, the only advantage gained by this disaster being that fewer animals were left to eat up the grain. The land was barren and useless to a degree, with no chance of finding any fresh water or grass; the former difficulty was overcome by collecting some snow, and the latter by being extravagant with our bhoussa. The ground fell in terraces from the hills that rose up some distance from the lake, and was split up by several deep, narrow and harsh nullahs running into it; nor was there any sign of life, with the exception of an occasional startled hare.

Although there were twenty-four degrees of frost that night, yet at 6 o'clock in the morning we were eating our breakfast with comfort in the open, by the edge of the salt lake. There was not a single ripple on the dark blue water, whose colour was only rivalled by the magnificent sky, nor was there a sound excepting the murmurs that came from our own camp. Although enjoying this peaceful scene for a few minutes, we were all the time getting most anxious about our inability to find grass, as another few days of this kind of marching would have been most disastrous. As far as we could see, a barren salt land extended due east, and we were therefore very likely following a regular zone of salt country, and, to get clear of this belt, it was advisable to strike north.

At the eastern extremity of the lake, we found a nullah running in that direction. This we followed, a gradual ascent between two ranges to the top of an easy pass, where we found a very small stream and fairly good grass. It was freezing hard by the time our animals reached this spot, defeating us in our hopes of being able to water them properly. Three ponies and a mule failed to reach camp, and we grew more anxious than ever to hit off a suitable place for a day's halt.

It was a grand, hot morning as we commenced the descent of this pass, so much so that we were somewhat puzzled to know really what amount of clothes we ought to put on to suit the extraordinary variety in the temperature. As soon as we had come down a few hundred feet, we came to a more hospitable-looking country. Grass grew in some of the valleys, and water, too, was to be had, while a herd of antelope close by gave us an easy chance of knocking some of them over. Early in the afternoon we came to a stretch of fairly good grazing, and in the sandy nullah close at hand, a foot or so beneath the surface, flowed unlimited water. Antelope were plentiful and tame around this spot, and having fallen into such clover, we agreed to remain there over the following day.

During this necessary halt our time was by no means wasted. Men and animals had to be doctored up, the shoeing had to be seen to; there was mending, repairing, washing, sketching, mapping, and writing to be done; above all things, we began to overhaul our impedimenta to see if there were not a few articles we might dispense with. As it was, we had only been making some nine or ten miles a day, and even with this care we feared to think of or to count our losses. At this spot we left a yakdan, with some horse-shoes and a book or two inside. Whoever may happen to come this way will find something worth having. One of our muleteers, too, named Tokhta, was so ill that he could do no work; he had swollen to an abnormal size, more resembling a balloon than a human being.

Looking ahead of us, it seemed as though a range of mountains barred our road, and our only chance was to follow the sandy nullah from whence we had obtained the water. It was now covered with snow and ice owing to another storm during the night. On our left hand were some very heavy craggy-looking rocks, and through them was a very narrow gorge, only a few yards across, sorely tempting us to follow it through and see what would be disclosed on the further side. It almost invited one to enter and explore, but we feared marching too far north, and followed instead the nullah we were in, which eventually led to the summit of a pass. The way was steep and rocky, and the sun so powerful that we slung our coats across our arms and loitered on the top for the breeze and the caravan. Snow lay there in heaps, a welcome quencher to our thirst. This was a stiff climb for our caravan, the height of the pass being nearly 17,000 feet. Having waited till they were nearly at the top, we began to descend again the other side.

Quite suddenly we seemed to be transplanted into a new zone, for a cutting snowstorm blew straight in our faces. We were almost frozen, and any portion of the head we exposed suffered severely. We looked for some overhanging rock that would serve for a shelter, but there the cold became so intense that we preferred to fight the elements and keep in motion. As soon as we had completed the descent we found a broad valley stretching east and west, apparently to eternity. We walked along this, for our ponies had become too weak for us ever to think of riding them again, and sought grass and water for making a halt by. Having found a fairly suitable spot, and waited for a considerable length of time, we were perplexed to hear no sign of the caravan. They would have to come thus far, for until they did they would find no fit place to camp in.

Darkness and cold came upon us, and we kept up an intermittent fusillade till eight o'clock, when a distant shout in reply revealed to us that they were at length coming. But alas! although some of the mules walked in fit and strong, others came in wretchedly weak, and, worst of all, six animals and three complete loads had been abandoned altogether.

This was a crushing bit of news, coming as it did just after our day's halt, when we had expected to make such good headway. The men, too, declared that these six animals had all died; but we suspected, from their demeanour and the way they spoke and behaved, that very likely some of them had been left behind in good condition for a reason, namely, that should any of the men take it into their heads to turn back, they would have the assistance of one or two stout animals to carry what they wanted. We knew they had been taking but little care of the transport, even in the proper adjustment of their loads.

In order to satisfy our suspicions, we arranged that Malcolm should remain in camp, or, better still, shift the camp a mile or so further on to a better spot, while I should take a man and go back in search of the mules and ponies that had been left behind. After a five-mile tramp, we came to a dead black pony, and another mile further on found a single mule grazing, to whom we gave some of the grain we had brought with us. In another nullah close by was a second dead pony and another mule, which must have very shortly died had we not hastened on his end with a revolver. The fifth, a grey mule, we found grazing, apparently enjoying himself. The sixth, a dun-coloured pony, we could discover nowhere. He was a useful pony, and had probably wandered a long way in search of good grass. We returned triumphant to camp with the grey and black mules, the latter especially doing good work afterwards for some weeks to come. Had one of us not gone back we must have lost the services of two strong mules, which would have been due solely to the men's laziness, and we could not help thinking that they, the dun pony, and the three loads of food, had been temporarily abandoned with the intention of helping some of the men on a return journey to Ladakh. My satisfaction was, however, marred on return to camp by the news that my own riding pony had succumbed in the night.