Fourteen

Anyhow, we couldn’t cross this first crevasse - or rather bergshound, and when the shikaris came back after about 20 minutes and said there was no road, all the coolies except one began to cry, rubbing their knuckles in their eyes - a funny sight.
The shikaris then went with Neve back a little to the left, where there seemed to be a possible way across the bergshrund downward. Meanwhile I went to forage for something to eat in the kilter, and got a hunk of bread, and one for Neve. I then went to see what the shikaris were doing when I met the coolie who hadn’t wept coming up, and he called out to the coolies, who began at once to pick up their loads.
Wondering if a route had been found, I went on, but almost at directly met Neve who said “we must go back.”
The coolies had already started, so we followed and got hold of the tiffin basket and secured a slice of bread and jam each, and one for the Khansamah. Neve was pretty well done, having had nothing since Choti Haziri. at 6am, except 2 Kola biscuits, and had been hard at it all day and it was now nearly 5 o’clock.
It was impossible for the coolies to camp out on the snow without fire or shelter, or some further exploring might have been done. But considering all the crevasses were open, and there were several hundred feet to get down to the glacier, and then 3 or 4 miles across the glacier to the camping place at Haigatum - at the side of the Hispar -I think the chances were against our getting through.

There was nothing for it but to go back, and we started up the slopes. When we reached the steep slope, Neve and I roped up with the guide, the Khansamah being looked after by a shikari. This time I got both hands to by khud stick (Alpine stick), so was all right. On getting back through the cornice there was a general congratulation between the shikaris, who also shook our hands, evidently very delighted to have brought us safely back. One shikari was especially moved, and knelt down by Neve and shaking his hand and almost crying, saying he would have cut his own throat if we hadn’t got back all right. The coolies too embraced one another as they got through the tunnel out on to safe ground.
We descended to the rocks where the old shelters were, and there were further congratulations.
It was now about 6 o’clock, and the men said the snow would be too soft for us to get back to Stiatbu Branza, so it was decided to stay where we were for the night. There was no room to pitch a tent, so Neve and I put our beds under a rock. A there was no fire wood, the coolies broke up two of the load kilters for the cook to make a fire with, and we dined off mulligatawny soup, Irish stew and cocoa.
Considering it was about 17,000 ft, it wasn’t very cold. The coolies lay about on the rocks and covered themselves up with the tent flies. They groaned a good deal during the night, but that was more or less to their dinner of raw meal soaked in water. It was a lovely moon-lit night, and I lay awake a good deal of the night looking across and down the long vale of snow and at the range of broken peaks on the other side, all draped in shining white. I may never see such a scene again.
Early next morning we were up and off, the snow being crisp and hard, down the valley to Stiatbu Branza. It was a cloudless morning, and the view down the Kero glacier and valley magnificent. Then on across the two side glaciers, finding a better route through the crevasses that when we came up, to Ding Branza, arriving there at 10.15 (2½ hrs and about 5 miles from the Nushik La. Here we rigged up an umbrella on a pole and sheltered under it waiting for breakfast. Left at 11.30, crossed the Kero Glacier and reached Kutche Branza at 2.10.
Not having had a wash since Wednesday morning, I essayed a bathe in the little lake. Neve sketched the while. When the coolies arrived, we went on another hour to Harimuch, where some trees and shrubs are, where we breakfasted on the way up, and there camped.

Fifteen

Saturday 7th September. Made an early start and reached Domok, where we found the fires of the wazir’s party smouldering, so Neve sent two shikaris after him to let him know we were coming back.
He got such an unfriendly reception at Arundo that he did not wait there but went on. The people were angry with him for taking their men to go over the pass.
(Neve writes: “he said...all the village folk came out to abuse him, the women tearing their hair and their clothes and throwing dust in the air, exclaiming that he had sent their men folk to destruction. He says the pass was well-known in former days, and that the time to go is when the mulberries ripen, late in June, when all the crevasses are covered in.”)
We got back to our old camping place at Arundo. The mountain slopes had a still more autumnal look than when we went up. As we came to the village, men, women and children came from the fields and embraced the shikaris in their fashion, putting their heads near one another, first on one side and then on the other, touching the tips of fingers with the right hand and salaaming with the left. Then more of the women (and an awfully ugly lot they were) came out of the village to give a like welcome. And I suppose the same performance was gone through when the coolies arrived.
Neve and I sat on a bank at our camping place and a crowd of men came and round discussing the situation. It is certainly a good job for the people that we were turned back, for any how they would not know what had become of their friends for a week longer, and as a matter of fact, though we had a perfect day on the pass and the day after, the weather has been so thick (this written four days later) since then, the men would not have been able to get back over the Nuskil La and could not have got home for several weeks, going round by Gilghit and the Indus Valley.


Dák Bungalow, Shigar,
Thurs 12th Sept., 1895, Baltistan.
My Dear Arthur (his youngest brother).
This being likely to be a short letter, more of a length to suit your taste, I will address it to you. I must assume you have read my letter to Albert (another brother), which probably you may not have done, though you may get it on from Stafford (the eldest brother) later...
Having arrived back at Arundo on Saturday 7th, we rested there on Sunday after our labours of the week.
One of the shikaris, who had made himself very useful to us on our way up to the Nuskil La and back, still remained faithful and came on with us in the capacity of khitmutgar. He had put off his garments, in which he looked like a brigand, combed his long hair and appeared as a respectable coolie.
The 5 shikaris who came up with us to the pass were splendid fellows, very different from the coolies who cried when they thought they were in difficulties.
Neve had a few patients on Sunday, but Arundo seems to be a more healthy place than some. The people have to be hardy to stand the winters they get here. They get 12 feet of snow in the winter, and the shikaris have to go out shooting to get food. So they have to learn a lot of mountain craft.
On Monday morning early we started off down the valley and a 4 hours march brought us to Doko, where we camped on the way up. Here we found our friend the Wazir of Shigar seated under a big walnut tree, surrounded by a concourse of lambadarss and people and his servant with the cherry-coloured breeches, who is as like Wood (our old butler) like two peas..
It had been raining most of the morning, so we were glad of a fire to dry ourselves. We had breakfast, and when the coolies arrived, paid them off and got a fresh lot, and went on to Chu Trun, where the hot springs are. However, the natives were making great use of them this time, so I could not get a bathe.
The next morning Neve did some doctoring, and did some 20 operations for trichinosis, a complaint of the eyes, the eye lashes growing inward (due to smoke, and rubbing the eyes. After a few years, the eyes become blind). Neve had an average of about 10 such cases in every village; 25 per cent of the people have complaints of the eyes of some sort.
We left at midday and came on about 6 miles to below the junction of our river, the Brasha, with the Braldo, which together form the Shigar River, where we found a goatskin raft prepared for us, on which we were to go the rest of the way down the Shigar.
It was a small raft, with 2 men to work it. Neve and I and our cook, and the Wazir took our seats on board, then shoved off and away we went.