Ladakhis

leaving behind the dras villages and their fertility the narrow road passes through a flaming valley above the dras walled in by bare riven snow-patched peaks with steep declivities of stones huge boulders decaying avalanches walls and spires of rock some vermilion others pink a few intense orange some black and many plum-colored with a vitrified look only to be represented by purple madder huge red chasms with glacier fed torrents occasional snow-fields intense solar heat radiating from dry and verdulous rock a ravine so steep and narrow that for miles together there is not space to pitch a five-foot tent the deafening roar of a river gathering volume and fury as it goes rare openings where willows are planted with lucerne in their irrigated shade among which the traveller camps at night, and over all a sky of pure intense blue purpling into starry night, were the features of the next three marches, noteworthy chiefly for the exchange of the thundering grass for the thundering suru, and for some bad bridges and infamous bits of roads before reaching Kargil, where the mountains swing apart, giving space to several villages.

miles of alluvium are under irrigation there poplars willows and apricots abound and on some damp sward under their shade at a great height i halted for two days to enjoy the magnificence of the scenery and the refreshment of the greenery These Kargil villages are the capital of the small state of Pyrrhic, under the governorship of Baltistan or Little Tibet, and are chiefly inhabited by Ladakhis who have become converts to Islam.

Racial characteristics, dress and manners are everywhere effaced or toned down by Mohammedanism, and the chilling aloofness and haughty bearing of Islam were very pronounced among these converts.

The daily routine of the journey was as follows.

great caravans en route for khotan yarkand and even chinese tibet arrived daily from kashmir the panjab and afghanistan and stacked their bales of goods in the place the lazar traders opened shops in which the specialities were brick tea and instruments of worship merchants from amritsar kabul bokhara and yarkand stately in costume and gait thronged the bazaar and opened bales of costly goods in tantalizing fashion mules asses horses and yaks kicked squealed and bellowed the dissonance of bargaining tongs rose high There were mendicant monks, Indian fakirs, Muslim dervishes, Mecca pilgrims, itinerant musicians, and Buddhist ballad howlers.

Bold-faced women with creels on their backs brought in lucerne.

Ladakhis, Baltis, and Lahulis tended the beasts, and the wazirs' jemadar and gay spahis moved about among the throngs.

In the midst of this picturesque confusion, the short, square-billed Lhasa traders, who face the blazing sun in heavy winter clothing, exchange their expensive tea for Nubra and Baltisan dried apricots, Kashmir saffron and rich stuffs from India, and merchants from Yarkand on big Turkestan horses offer hemp, which is smoked as opium, and Russian trifles and dress goods under cloudless skies.

Poplars, willows, and apricots abound, and on some damp sward under their shade at a great height I halted for two days to enjoy the magnificence of the scenery and the refreshment of the greenery.

These Kargil villages are the capital of the small state of Purik, under the governorship of Baltistan or Little Tibet, and are chiefly inhabited by Ladakhis who have become converts to Islam.

Racial characteristics, dress, and manners are everywhere effaced or toned down by Mohammedanism, and the chilling aloofness and haughty bearing of Islam were very pronounced among these converts.

The daily routine of the journey was as follows.

The narrow alleys, which would be abominably dirty if dirt were possible in a climate of such intense dryness, house a very mixed population, in which the Moslem element is always increasing, partly owing to the renewal of that proselytizing energy which is making itself felt throughout Asia, and partly to the marriages of Moslem traders with Ladakhi women, who embrace the faith of their husbands and bring up their families in the same.

On my arrival few of the shops in the great place or bazaar were open and there was no business; but a few weeks later the little desert capital nearly doubled its population, and during August the din and stir of trade and amusements ceased not by day or night, and the shifting scenes were as gay in colouring and as full of variety as could be desired.

Great caravans en route for Khotan, Yarkand, and even Chinese Tibet arrived daily from Kashmir, the Punjab, and Afghanistan, and stacked their bales of goods in the place; the Lhasa traders opened shops in which the specialities were brick-tea and instruments of worship; merchants from Amritzar, Kabul, Bokhara, and Yarkand, stately in costume and gait, thronged the bazaar and opened bales of costly goods in tantalizing fashion; mules, asses, horses, and yaks kicked, squealed, and bellowed; the dissonance of bargaining tongues rose high; there were mendicant monks, Indian fakirs, Moslem dervishes, Mecca pilgrims, itinerant musicians, and Buddhist ballad-howlers; bold-faced women with creels on their backs brought in lucerne; Ladakhis, Baltis, and Lahulis tended the beasts; and the wazir's jemadar and gay spahis moved about among the throngs.

In the midst of this picturesque confusion, the short, square-built Lhasa traders, who face the blazing sun in heavy winter clothing, exchange their expensive tea for Nubra and Baltisan dried apricots, Kashmir saffron, and rich stuffs from India; and merchants from Yarkand on big Turkestan horses offer hemp, which is smoked as opium, and Russian trifles and dress goods under cloudless skies.