Arriving at Pisin, Neve and I sat in a shady place and ate the contents of our pockets. Some men showed us the way to the camping place, a pretty spot with trees and rocks and a stream trickling over rocks into ferns. It was just at the corner of the narrow entrance to the Chorbat Nullah, up which is the road to the Chorbat Pass. Gustaveson arrived with the coolies at 12.30, when we had breakfast.
Being Friday, the mullah was calling to prayers from the village mosque, and not many came for treatment, though Gustaveson got a little party to preach to. In the evening I went with my camera some way up the Shyok along cliffs. Rain came on, and afterwards at sunset there were fine effects on the distant snow mountains, the peaks gradually appearing the rain cloud.
Saturday 22nd. Turned out at dawn and all got started at 6.20. Up the Chorbat Nullah. saw the sun at starting up the Shyock, but not again until nine o’clock, as our nullah went south, was very narrow, and the rocks on either side steep and high. It widened out further up.
Gustaveson went ahead as usual and Neve came behind with the coolies. We didn’t pick up Gustaveson till 11 o’clock, sitting by a bridge, and by then we were very ready for breakfast, during which a snow storm came on.
Passed several small cornfields, but the grain was not ripe; the highest field was at about 13500ft. The valley was about ½ a mile wide, more or less grassy, craggy mountains on each side with fresh snow on them, grassy or debris slopes at the foot of them.
About 3 o’clock arrived at some stone shelters, roofed, at the spot called Changa Branza. A flat place with ponds about. Snow came on, and I tried to shelter under the wall of one of the huts, but finally joined Gustaveson inside, braving the fleas, and he lighted a fire on the floor. Coolies came in at 3.45. The march about 15 miles, height about 1500ft above the Shyok. A cold, cheerless spot, but we demolished a melon.
Sunday 22nd. About an inch of snow when we turned out, and clouds were threatening more. Away at 6.45, up stony, undulating ground. Some high peaks ahead, one of over 19000 feet
The coolies stopped for their meal, and Neve stayed with them. I went on, Gustaveson being in front. It snowed again, and the snow on the ground got thicker as we ascended.
The valley narrows and the mountains closed round in front. Began a steep ascent. Having reached what I thought might be the top, saw another rise, and surmounting that, still another. Feeling a bit done, stimulated myself with a Kola biscuit. Up another steep slope towards a flattish peak, completely snow covered, which we had seen a long way down. Snow now about 9 inches deep. I reached the knife-edge top at about 11 o’clock (4¼ hours from camp). I had followed the tracks of some coolies. Nowhere to sit on the top, so started down a steep slope on the other side, and didn’t stop till I was below the snow, 1700 feet down. The top of the Chorbat Pass is about 1600ft. An icy blizzard came on the way down, and icicles hung from my moustache. Joined Gustaveson, and going down a bit further, sat down by the stream under a rock where we basked in the sun, which had come out, and dried our socks.
Neve arrived with the coolies about 1 o’clock, when we had breakfast - a cold one as there was no wood for a fire.
Going on, we passed a Ladakhi boy playing a sort of penny whistle, and he came along with the coolies.
At about 1200ft, reached cultivated land, rose bushes etc. Mountain slopes covered with a sort of brownish-red coloured sorrel. At 16 miles from the last camp, 11½ from the pass, arrived at the cultivated terraces on Hanu. The main village was on the other side of the stream. An old man, the lumbadar, came hobbling across from the village to attend to our wants, about the dirtiest pudding nosed hook and eye I have ever seen, with a high, squeaky voice. Neve pronounced him a leper. The people here were Buddhists. A chorten by the stream, like many others I saw afterwards. Wood etc was brought us by several filthy men. We had a little service before turning in, which we were quite ready to do.
Monday, 23rd. Up before dawn as usual. There were no chickens in the place, so no eggs for breakfast. Continued down the valley, which got narrower and at last became a ravine with high precipitous rocks on each side, of a reddish colour due to a lichen which covered the whole face of the cliffs. Passed the lower village of Hanu, where the path passed through a chorten, the inside roof of which was decorated with paper with coloured representations of Buddha printed thereon. Saw two ibex drinking in the stream, which went up the rocks fast when they saw us. Passed a small village where the ravine was a little wider. Fine view, the foreground of green trees and rushing stream of clear water over variously-coloured boulders, the sides of the nullah towering high on either side.
At 7 miles from camp, emerged suddenly into the gorge of the Indus, striking the (lower) Leh and Scardu road. The Indus a rushing river, of a deep greenish colour about 50 yards wide.
At the corner where we struck the Leh/Scardu road was a low wide wall covered with Buddhist prayer stones of various sizes, all the smaller ones inscribed in Tibetan, with the Buddhist prayer “O mani padmi om,” (“O jewel in the lotus”). The larger ones had more inscription. We turn right (west) towards Scardu, and facing us the tremendous gorge down which the Indus passes in tumultuous way, the bare, purplish coloured mountain spurs rising on each side 3 or 4 thousand feet above the river.
Very up-and-down road, sometimes several hundred feet above the river. passed some small villages at the mouths of nullahs, with fruit and poplar trees and small fields of some grain crop (not corn).
At 18 miles from Hanu, we reached the village of Dah. walked for ½ a mile past very small flat-roofed houses built of large rounded stones (from the river), and many having the cliff or a rock as the back wall, many round shaped, and only about 5 feet high - mere hovels. Except for one or two people working in the fields, there wasn’t a soul about.
Came to a grove of trees where on the right of the road was a retaining wall. and above, a small enclosed space, where I found Neve and Gustaveson surrounded by a group of picturesque but exceedingly dirty natives, including the village Llama, in a mulberry-coloured garment with a yellow cap. All the men were wearing bright red marigolds and bright red seed pods in their caps.
We pitched our tent in this very dusty little enclosure, the khansamah’s tent being on another little terrace above. I climbed down a steep ravine and had a bathe in the river, which was here more gently flowing.
When I got back, I found the grove thronged with men and women, all gaily decked out with yellow flowers in their caps, the women with decorated headdresses, and band with drums and pipes. From a little distance, the women appeared to be wearing veils with black spots, but the illusion proved to be due to dirt. It was a semi-religious (pagan) festival held for 4 days every 3 years. The people are supposed to be Buddhist, but this has to do with their old religion. They sing about hunting ibex and about Gilghit, from where they originally came. They stood round in a circle, a certain amount of mild horse play, and they drank a good deal of chung. The men were handsome looking, the women big and strong. They are Brokpas.
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