Five

This (Friday) morning, we went up the rock to the old fort, which is a very large place, very strong, and in good preservation.
At 10 o’clock, according to arrangement, we went to photo the Jehsildar, and found him in his garden surrounded by a crowd of Kashmiri officers in full uniform, wazirs, clerks and assistants.
A table had been placed under a tree with a red cloth upon it, a large lodging-house sort of cloth, an American clock and 2 vases of flowers.

In front, a carpet was spread on the ground with two lines of chairs facing each other on either side - choir wise.
This arrangement wasn’t quite suitable for a photograph of the party, so I had the chairs moved and placed in a row, with the table in front. Then the Jehsildar put on a gorgeous coat, and he and Neve sat on two chairs behind the table, the officers sitting in a row on one side, and the crowd of others standing, sitting and squatting in a row at right angles to them..
With Neve’s help, I got them into line with the other lot, and took a photo of as many as I conveniently could.
The Jehsildar immediately ordered 15 copies. He then asked us to breakfast, which meal proved to be the same as the dinner on Wednesday, only there were 16 little bowls of curries besides condiments - nasty looking stuff. We drank water.
After breakfast, he presented us with several dishes of dried apricots and plates of bread, and rolls of posh mina cloth. So we were pretty well set up.
Nerve had previously given him his old white pony.
From there I went on to the Rajah’s house to take a family group there, as requested. A babu came with me to interpret, and we got them into good order with very little trouble.
Since then I have been writing this letter.
From early morning, our abode has been besieged by the sick, and Neve has been at it steadily. Today he had had 40 patients. When he gives a man his medication and instructions, all the people gathered round shout out the instructions after him, and explain them more at length to the patient.
We start tomorrow across the Indus and the sandy plain beyond to Shigar, where Neve is going to work for several days - to help the Swedish missionary there.



Dak Bungalow
Shigar
Baltistan.
Monday, August 26, 1895

Dear Fanny,
Thanks very much to Cecil, Blanche, and yourself (note by Stephen T-B: Grandad’s brothers and sister)for your several contributions to the budget which arrived here today,having taken only 7 days to reach here from Srinegar, 250 miles by the Dras Road.(Scardu is a most advanced place, having a telegraph office and parcels and V.P. post).
On Saturday morning up (at the Dak Bangalow, Scardu) at 4 am, and found Neve already half dressed by the light of a candle. We were making a very early start as it would be a very hot march here.
We were having our Choti Hazir when the Jehsildar came in, with a blanket over his head, to see the last of us.
We got everything packed by the time it was light, and started the last of the 13 coolies off by 5.45 when we, our cook and the Wazir of Shigar, who was escorting us, mounted our respective ponies and followed.
We went along the willow avenue about 1½ miles, which then descended a sandstone cliff to the river plains level, then some way along a poplar avenue to the next village, and a little further along turned off to the left across the sands to where our ship was waiting to take us across the Indus.
There we had to wait for the coolies to arrive, and while we waited, the sun which had for some time lighted up the mountains to the North West, rose over the mountains behind us.
The atmospheric effects are lovely at Scardu, the colouring of the mountains at sunset, and pink and yellow reflections from the river being exquisite.
The boat we crossed in was a great heavy sort of punt, but very wide for the length. We were a good boatload altogether, ourselves, servants, and 13 coolies with their loads, the Wazir and his attendants and the boatmen, making 34 men, besides 4 ponies and a foal.
The boat, worked by large rowing paddles, was moved out into the stream and caught in the rapid current on the further side, was carried down towards Scardu at a great rate.
As one oar touched the shore, two men jumped out with a big rope fastened to the boat, and pulled the boat up, which was swung round sideways to the shore. The river here was about 200 yards wide.
When we landed at 6.50, we mounted our ponies and rode along the river to a point where a rocky ridge came down to the river side. Here the track is carried along the slope at the foot of the cliffs.
About a mile further along, the river made a bend to the right, and from there we kept straight on across about 2 miles of undulating sand into which the ponies’ hooves dank 2 or 3 inches at every step.
By this time the sun was well up, and we began to get well baked..
At 5 miles the road divided, one road keeping straight east, on to where the river emerges from the mountains, while the other way led up a steep rocky gorge, to pass over a mountain spur into the Shigar Valley.
After climbing - and for the ponies it was little less than climbing - about 500 feet, we reached the flat summit of the ridge, and then zig-zagged down a steep slope into the Shigar Valley.
This joins the Scardu Plain a few miles to the west.. A strip ½ a mile wide on one side of the river consisted of sandy meadows where cattle and goats were feeding, while the road up the valley bottom was a flat sandy plain, through which the Shigar River runs in many winding channels.
On the far side, a very rocky mountain rising 900 feet precipitously from the plain formed a corner from which the valley bends from the north.
A mile or so up the valley to our right we could see cultivated land beginning, which appeared to extend, as a connected a strip a mile or so wide, along the foot of the mountain as far as the eye could reach. In the other direction, it continued 30 or 40 miles, where the end is blocked by a high snow mountain, being flanked on either side by spur after spur of precipitous bare brown slopes, some ending in snowy peaks 10,000 feet above the river level.
A welcome avenue of poplars now led us along to where the Shigar “oasis” begins, with its square, white, flat-roofed houses scattered about well-irrigated fields, and shaded by innumerable apricot, mulberry and apple trees.
A little distance on, the local band met us, consisting of 3 flageolets, 4 drums and 2 great brass trumpets. (According to Neve, they were met by the Raja and a few notables on horseback, and a band “consisting of a drum, two clarionets and a huge trumpet.”) They struck up, and marched in front of us.
Shortly after, the Rajah of Shigar’s brother and the Thanadar (head official) came to welcome the Doctor Sahib, and then fell in with their ponies behind us.
So we proceeded, the band in front, then a smartly-dressed Sepoy, followed by Neve and me, and behind us the 2 persons aforesaid, riding with their retainers, while as we went along, children came out and ran along the fields on either side of the path, which here was shaded by willows, here and there festooned with vines, and crossed by many little irrigation channels.
A small colt, which kept cantering backwards and forwards along the line of march, rather disturbed the dignity of the procession.
At half past ten we reached the polo ground where Gustaveson, the Swedish missionary, met us and took us to the Dak Bangalow, or rest house, where he lives at the further corner of the ground.

Six

He presented a rather odd appearance. A gentleman without a shade of colour or even sunburn on his face, with long red beard and moustache, blue serge trousers, black tail coat, and no collar, and an odd-shaped brown topi on his head.
The bungalow is rather an ancient structure, with 4 large rooms side by side, no glass in the windows, and thick with dust.
We first entered a wide passage containing a large mud oven. On the left was a large room which Gustaveson uses as a kitchen, beyond another in which he lives.
We took possession of the two others on the other side of the passage.
We had no sooner arrived than the Thanadar called, bringing a plate of melons, one of apples and two of blackcurrants.
Directly after, the Rajah’s brother came with 6 large dishes of very light-coloured apricots - which are about the most refreshing fruit I have ever tasted - a dish of plums, one of melons and two of large white grapes. With all this fruit, and what we had brought from Scardu, we were well set up.
There being only one chair, it was placed at the disposal of the Rajah’s brother, while we 3 sahibs and the Thanadar, who seems a very decent sort, sat in a row on the bed, and a crowd of 10 or 12 attendants stood around.
Fortunately the visit didn’t last long, as Neve and I were in much need of our breakfast and had headaches from our 4 hours’ ride in the hot sun.
After breakfast and a rest, at 2.30 we went out to call on the Rajah, being conducted by our friend the wazir.
The house is a very picturesque place, of 2 stories, and with a good deal of carving on the beams and window frames under a large chenar (plane tree) in the garden.
By the side of an artificial water course 2 camp chairs were placed, with pieces of white calico on their backs. In front of them a little table with a white cloth, and carpets laid down in front.
On these chairs we sat, while the Rajah and his brother sat on a charpoy (bedstead) at one side, and some 50 attendants sat around in a square.
Two servants held umbrellas over our heads, and as usual, plates of fruit were presented, and then a plate of sweets, tea and cakes were served, which we solemnly partook off, and then departed.
At 4.30 a polo match was arranged for our amusement, and while we were at tiffin, the Rajah and people marched down to the ground, headed by the band.
An English officer appeared, Burnett by name, (“Birney of the Hussars” according to Neve) who was camped near by, and he and Neve and I were accommodated with chairs in the “grand stand”, while everyone else at on the floor.
Some hundreds of natives came to watch the game, and lined the low walls along the asides and ends of the ground.
Most of the boys wear a little bouquet of flowers in their hair, and some of the players had flowers in their turbans.
As at Scardu, we were entertained first by two three grotesque dances, and then 2 games were played.
Burnett played in the 2nd game.
In the evening we dined with him at his camp. He is shooting in the Nullahs about here.

On Sunday morning I had a stroll around before breakfast before the sun came over the hills.
The people were busy harvesting, the women reaping, children gleaning, and the men, and the men carrying the sheaves to the threshing floors, where it is stacked.
After breakfast, we had a short service, and by this time a good many people were hanging about waiting to see the doctor, so they were all collected into our kitchen next door, 50 or 60 of them, and were all seated round on the floor. Neve then sat down and gave them a little address in Hindustani, which was translated into Balti by Gustaveson’s servant, a very smart lad who declaimed with great spirit. Gustaveson then preached to them and sang a hymn, after which Neve began examining the patients, giving each man a written prescription. When all had been seen, the pills and medicine bottles were put out on a table in the window of this room, where Neve sat and gave out the medicines through the window as fast as the people presented their chits. Gustaveson stood by and poured out the mixture of Epson Salts and Senna, which was the favourite concoction, and his boy held a saucer of lotion, where with he rubbed the legs, arms and backs of those who required to be rubbed.
The 60 patients were thus speedily disposed of, and then Neve started the more important job of operations.
The whole business last till 6 o’clock, including half an hour for tiffin.
I took a photo of the crowd outside the bungalow, but most of them had their backs turned, being interested in an operation which Neve was at that moment performing.

Seven

The same business is being repeated again today, and at this moment, dispensing is going on through the window.
A fair sized stream comes down through the village from a valley above, and comes out through a very fine rocky gorge.
On one side to the entrance to the gorge is a great rock, about 300 feet high, which is fortified by rough stone sangas (defensive walls) built in inaccessible positions, and this morning I had a walk round with my camera.
There is an old fort near by, and also a very fine timber-built mosque, with very beautifully carved doors and beams.
The woodwork in many of the houses is carved. The houses are built of large pebbles below, and large sandy bricks above, the windows being closed by wattle. The flat roofs are used a good deal for sitting out on, and for drying apricots
We are beginning to think that the natives know more about the Nushik La (pass) to Hunza than they say.
The Wazir, who, as I said, was at first much against going that way, but has now decided to come with us (Neve says he was “appointed to accompany me”) said yesterday: “If we have a fine day like this we shall not want ropes” (Why?), which seems to indicate that he knew something about it.
We are starting the day after tomorrow (Wednesday) and hope, all going well, to get across the Nushik La and down to Hunza next week.

Tuesday 27 Aug. Today Neve has had more work than ever, and had had to send people away (a fact not mentioned by the good doctor in his book). 120 new cases and 60 old have been treated today, and he performed 7 operations for cataracts before breakfast.
The whole crowd of patients and others coming to see the show has thronged the door of the bungalow all day. Neve and Gustaveson preaches to them from the little grandstand of the polo ground, where Neve also did his operations.
Before tiffin, I climbed to the top of the rock at the entrance to the gorge. It makes a very strong defensive position. I also climbed some way up a hillside to get a photo of Shigar and the whole Shigar valley to the north. The view was very fine, and very beautiful.

For several miles below, along the foot of the mountains on the east side of the valley stretched what looked like a forest of fruit trees, broken here and there to make room for the bright green fields, whilst a dozen or more clusters of flat-roofed houses nestle here and there among the trees, the flat tops of the houses shining gold with the apricots laid out to dry. Beyond, lay a network of green, yellow and purple fields down to the edge of the sandy plain, with its many winding channels of the Shigar River, and flanked on either side into the far distance by mountains, many from 9 to 12 thousand feet above the river plain. A white rushing stream cut straight across the green country from beneath me, besides many smaller streams, flowing about in every direction.
When I got back, I found the polo ground surrounded by a crowd of natives watching a game, which had been announced by the beating of drums all the morning. As usual, the band sat at the end of the ground and played a sort of running commentary to the game, playing a loud and triumphant air when a goal was hit, or when the Rajah had a run down with the ball.
One wouldn’t think these fellows have much play in them when one sees them mooching about in their long sort of swaddling clothes.
At the end of the game, the winning side 9 in number, went and stood in front of the band and cheered, holding their sticks aloft, and then came a little way down the ground and sat in a row, and the other side retired to the further end of the ground and walked slowly up towards the winners, salaaming very low, and throwing a little earth over their shoulders. Then the winners rose and went forward to meet them. Then all salaamed down to the ground and embraced.
The ground was then invaded by 60 or 70 little boys with hockey sticks.
These customs at polo are observed, I believe, in all these mountain districts.
We are starting at 8 o’clock tomorrow (Wednesday) morning. We are rather sorry to leave as this must be one of the prettiest places in Kashmir, though Neve hasn’t had much time to enjoy the scenery. I wonder we are not ill considering the amount of fruit of all kinds we have been eating at every meal, and between meals as well.
We shall probably send letters back by Gustaveson from Arandu (“Arundo” writes Neve) on Saturday.

Eight

Arundu
Baltistan
Sunday, September 1, 1895
My Dear Stafford,
The day being Sunday, the birds, I suppose, are having an extra day of peace.....
We made a good start from Shigar on Wednesday 28th. Turned out at 6, and all the coolies were off by 7 o’clock..
We were accompanied by Gustaveson and by our good friend the Wazir of Shigar.
Our way was north up the Shigar Valley. It is 3 or 4 miles between the foot of the enclosing mountains, which are bare rock.
At the mouth of each side valley - generally a mere gorge - on both sides of the main valley, a great moraine, formed by the debris brought down by the torrents, spreads out in the form of a fan. Some of the larger fans have a radius of 1 to 2 miles. The space between these successive fan moraines is flat sand.
The river winds its way through the sandy plain in a maze of channels. Most of the fans have been terraced for cultivation, and on them are the villages with their little fields and fruit trees. They are irrigated by the water coming down from the nullahs behind.
For the first few miles we walked along a path brought enough for a stage coach, shaded by willow trees passing through various villages, which made up the district of Shigar. Then along a poplar avenue, across the sands to the village on the next moraine, Alchori by name, where we were as ever presented with apricots. Then a few on we halted in an orchard for breakfast, about 2 o’clock. We always call our first substantial meal breakfast, at whatever time it might happen to come.
When all the coolies had come up, we proceeded some miles over sand and moraine, and arriving at the village of Kashomál, pitched our tents in an apricot orchard where was also a flower garden, such as the Baltis are fond of.
As soon as we arrived, the sick and diseased of the place began to assemble.
Gustaveson preached to them while Neve got his things ready. I went off to get a wash in the river and on getting back found Neve operating, surrounded by a wondering and admiring crowd.
Gustaveson only brought one collie-load of stuff with him, which did not include a tent, so that at night he bivouacked.
On Thursday we crossed the Kashomál moraine, and further on, an uncultivated one, all covered with loose stones, which made it rather hard going.
On the further side, we hit the Shigar River, which had to be crossed.
Two rafts had been prepared for our crossing. They were made with 25 or 30 goatskins filled with air and lashed together. On the top, willow branches were tied together and to the skins with withies. As soon as it was ready, all the skins blown up, it was carried by 4 men and put in the river. Six or eight coolies then took their place on board with their loads: the four raft men with long sticks shoved off, and away they went down river at a great pace and ran ashore ¼ of a mile down stream.

The raft was taken out of the water and carried a few hundred yards up stream, brought to our side and then cross again, and carried to our starting point. Meantime, another party had gone off on the other raft.
Six journeys had to be taken to get the whole party across, and the operation took 2 hours.
There was some rough water in mid-stream, and some raft loads, being heavy, a good deal of water was shipped..
The raft men propelled the rafts with their long sticks, used as paddled..
The river we had crossed was really one branch of the Braldo, which is a tributary of the Shigar, and is fed 2 of the great Karakorum glaciers, the Bialfo and the Baltoro.
We now had an unpleasant march of 5 miles across the sandy and stony plain, and then reached other branch of the Braldo.
It happened to be a cloudy day, or we should have had a good toasting. The flies gave some annoyance
The plain was more or less covered with a low shrub with bright orange berries.
We reached this other part of the Braldo just below its junction with the Basha stream, the other tributary of the Shigar.
The rafts were carried with us, and we crossed as before, only this trip was made more exhilarating by the raft spinning round and round in the mid-stream eddies..
On landing, we were met by the Lumbadar of the village of Tiser (Neve’s “Tissar”) who brought 5 ponies on which we rode to a jolly little camping ground shaded by willows, where a halt was made for breakfast of splendid red apples.
In the villages about here there are fine walnut trees, and very old mulberry trees.
The view from here was very fine. We were just at the mouth of the Basha mullah, and opposite us was the mouth of the Braldo mullah, the mountains to either side rising precipitously to 10000 ft.
The spur between the two mullahs runs back to a peak, rising to 21500 ft above sea level, 13000 above us, and which we had had a good view of as we came along.
Southward, we looked down the broad Shigar valley, flanked by fine mountain, one peak (Hoser Gunga) of pure white snow rising just above our last night’s camping place.
Over the houses and fruit trees of the village on our side of the valley rose many pinacled rocks, the higher points of which were powdered with fresh snow, with masses of snow and small glaciers lying between them.
These peaks looked very impressive seen through a thin veil of cloud.
After breakfast, we marched on, and from here to the next village were preceded by a band of 3, one drum and two side drums, but we dispensed with their music.
As we were going along a shady lane through this village, the lumbadar came up and asked us to stop and see his child, se we sat down in a row on a bank by the side of the road.. and directly after a man came carrying a little girl in a blanket, and plumped her down in front of Neve.
They were soon followed by the mother and grandmother of the child. They sat down by the side of the child to hold her while Neve made an examination, the father holding the child’s hand, and several villagers standing very sympathisingly around. It was rather a striking scene.
After crossing this moraine with its village and cultivation, we crossed a mile or two of sandy plain again, and then up and along a steep slope to reach the village of Chu Trun, famous for its hot sulphur springs.
Over the place where the spring issues is the grave of a Mahomedan saint.
It is in an enclosure, and round it are small bathing pools enclosed by stone walls and wooden palings. Outside are other pools through which the water flows, and so to the river.
The water is greenish but very clear and about 112° Fahrenheit.
Close by was a long but dilapidated rest house surrounded by a courtyard with a verandah on one side, on which we took up our quarters for the night.
The usual crowd came along, and the preaching and doctoring followed.
Before dinner, when I went down, I found the bath occupied by an old Mohammedan priest, so I went to another pool, probably the one used by the women when on 2 occasions in the year crowds gather to worship the saint and to bathe in the sacred water.
While I was undressing, the old priest came to say his prayers to the saint.
It took some time getting into the water, being so hot.


Crops in the field here were white with blossom.
On Friday, the march was a short one, and cool, as the day was cloudy.
We were now entering the deep and narrow valley of the Basha stream.
For most of the way, the path was cut along steep slopes of rock or debris, very rough in some places, and keeping 2 or 3 hundred feet above the river.
The last mile we came to and passed through villages and fields of flowering crops, hay fields and orchards.
The hay was being cut, a long curved knife being used for cutting.
Fields are watered by little channels led from mountain torrents. Very little water is wasted in Baltistan.
Eight miles brought us to the village of Doka, where we camped on a grassy spot amongst great rocks fallen from the heights above.
Here a Capt. O’Brien of the Border Regt. who was shooting about here, turned up with his shikaris and coolies, and joined us for breakfast.

Nine

After breakfast, Neve and Gustaveson got to work. The people always attend to the preaching, and don’t make any objections, sometimes making remarks of assent. This is the first time any missionary has been up in these parts.
It came on to rain here at night, so Gustaveson took shelter under the outer fly of our tent, and when the water began to come through, came inside and took possession of the very narrow space between Neve’s bed and mine..
Yesterday ( (Saturday 31st) was another shortish march of 11 miles to this place, Arendu, the last village up this valley, but a toughish one over debris slopes, moraine and sandy flats.
Arundu is situated on a moraine, terraced and cultivated, but no trees. It is a compact village, houses all together.
We entered a street, or alley rather, about 4 feet wide, walls of large pebbles on each side.
After going a few yards, we were taken up a ladder to the flat roof, a roof which extended over the whole village - except for the alleyways. On the roof was a sort of second storey

the walls of which were simply made of woven willow branches and withers, and with the exception of one or two separate rooms, the roof of these rooms also stretched over a whole block.
We climbed a ladder to the roof of this wicker-work storey, and walked straight off it on to the ground which, at the back of the village, rises to that level.
Close by was a building called a fort, but I should not have guessed it.
Our camp is in a little field a little above the village.
Just above us, in the mouth of a nullah, down which flows a glacier which ends within half a mile of our tents. It is about 4 miles long, and descends from a 20,000 ft peak. Our height here is about 9700 feet.
A straight spur of this peak crosses the nullah at the top, and is covered by the purest white domes, folds, wrinkled, slopes and precipices of glistening, frozen snow - a lovely sight.
Half a mile up the main valley is the snout of the great the Chogo Longma glacier about 30miles long and ¾ mile wide.. The terminal ice cliff, from 50 to 100 feet high, stands right across the valley. The river rushes out from beneath it. The natives say that the glacier is advancing very rapidly.
Just opposite to us on the further side of the glacier is the entrance to a very narrow gorge, up which we have to go the Nushik Pass.
An old man here is coming up to act as guide - so far as he can.. He was one of the party that 30 years ago crossed the pass to go to Nagar to take a ransom for some Kashmiri soldiers who had been captured by the natives there.
We are taking 30 coolies with us from here, having brought 2 or 3 good men along from villages further back. They are carrying food for 8 days.
Our friend the Wazir produced today some very fine grapes and melons which he had brought from Shigar for us. He has also brought some goats along so we shall have milk. Some men have also been sent on ahead to repair the road a bit.In the villages about here there are fine walnut trees, and very old mulberry trees.
The view from here was very fine. We were just at the mouth of the Basha mullah, and opposite us was the mouth of the Braldo mullah, the mountains to either side rising precipitously to 10000 ft.
The spur between the two mullahs runs back to a peak, rising to 21500 ft above sea level, 13000 above us, and which we had had a good view of as we came along.
Southward, we looked down the broad Shigar valley, flanked by fine mountain, one peak (Hoser Gunga) of pure white snow rising just above our last night’s camping place.
Over the houses and fruit trees of the village on our side of the valley rose many pinacled rocks, the higher points of which were powdered with fresh snow, with masses of snow and small glaciers lying between them.
These peaks looked very impressive seen through a thin veil of cloud.
After breakfast, we marched on, and from here to the next village were preceded by a band of 3, one drum and two side drums, but we dispensed with their music.
As we were going along a shady lane through this village, the lumbadar came up and asked us to stop and see his child, so we sat down in a row on a bank by the side of the road.. and directly after a man came carrying a little girl in a blanket, and plumped her down in front of Neve.
They were soon followed by the mother and grandmother of the child. They sat down by the side of the child to hold her while Neve made an examination, the father holding the child’s hand, and several villagers standing very sympathisingly around. It was rather a striking scene.
After crossing this moraine with its village and cultivation, we crossed a mile or two of sandy plain again, and then up and along a steep slope to reach the village of Chu Trun, famous for its hot sulphur springs.
Over the place where the spring issues is the grave of a Mahomedan saint.
It is in an enclosure, and round it are small bathing pools enclosed by stone walls and wooden palings. Outside are other pools through which the water flows, and so to the river.
The water is greenish but very clear and about 112° Fahrenheit.
Close by was a long but dilapidated rest house surrounded by a courtyard with a verandah on one side, on which we took up our quarters for the night.
The usual crowd came along, and the preaching and doctoring followed.
Before dinner, when I went down, I found the bath occupied by an old Mohammedan priest, so I went to another pool, probably the one used by the women when on 2 occasions in the year crowds gather to worship the saint and to bathe in the sacred water.
While I was undressing, the old priest came to say his prayers to the saint.
It took some time getting into the water, being so hot.
Crops in the field here were white with blossom.
On Friday, the march was a short one, and cool, as the day was cloudy.
We were now entering the deep and narrow valley of the Basha stream.
For most of the way, the path was cut along steep slopes of rock or debris, very rough in some places, and keeping 2 or 3 hundred feet above the river.
The last mile we came to and passed through villages and fields of flowering crops, hay fields and orchards.
The hay was being cut, a long curved knife being used for cutting.
Fields are watered by little channels led from mountain torrents. Very little water is wasted in Baltistan.
Eight miles brought us to the village of Doka, where we camped on a grassy spot amongst great rocks fallen from the heights above.
Here a Capt. O’Brien of the Border Regt. who was shooting about here, turned up with his shikaris and coolies, and joined us for breakfast.
After breakfast, Neve and Gustaveson got to work. The people always attend to the preaching, and don’t make any objections, sometimes making remarks of assent. This is the first time any missionary has been up in these parts.
It came on to rain here at night, so Gustaveson took shelter under the outer fly of our tent, and when the water began to come through, came inside and took possession of the very narrow space between Neve’s bed and mine.

Ten

Yesterday (Saturday 31st) was another shortish march of 11 miles to this place, Arendu, the last village up this valley, but a toughish one over debris slopes, moraine and sandy flats.
Arundu is situated on a moraine, terraced and cultivated, but no trees. It is a compact village, houses all together.
We entered a street, or alley rather, about 4 feet wide, walls of large pebbles on each side.
After going a few yards, we were taken up a ladder to the flat roof, a roof which extended over the whole village - except for the alleyways. On the roof was a sort of second storey the walls of which were simply made of woven willow branches and withers, and with the exception of one or two separate rooms, the roof of these rooms also stretched over a whole block.
We climbed a ladder to the roof of this wicker-work storey, and walked straight off it on to the ground which, at the back of the village, rises to that level.
Close by was a building called a fort, but I should not have guessed it.
Our camp is in a little field a little above the village.
Just above us, in the mouth of a nullah, down which flows a glacier which ends within half a mile of our tents. It is about 4 miles long, and descends from a 20,000 ft peak. Our height here is about 9700 feet.
A straight spur of this peak crosses the nullah at the top, and is covered by the purest white domes, folds, wrinkled, slopes and precipices of glistening, frozen snow - a lovely sight.
Half a mile up the main valley is the snout of the great the Chogo Longma glacier about 30 miles long and ¾ mile wide.. The terminal ice cliff, from 50 to 100 feet high, stands right across the valley. The river rushes out from beneath it. The natives say that the glacier is advancing very rapidly.
Just opposite to us on the further side of the glacier is the entrance to a very narrow gorge, up which we have to go the Nushik Pass.
An old man here is coming up to act as guide - so far as he can. He was one of the party that 30 years ago crossed the pass to go to Nagar to take a ransom for some Kashmiri soldiers who had been captured by the natives there.
We are taking 30 coolies with us from here, having brought 2 or 3 good men along from villages further back. They are carrying food for 8 days.
Our friend the Wazir produced today some very fine grapes and melons which he had brought from Shigar for us. He has also brought some goats along so we shall have milk. Some men have also been sent on ahead to repair the road a bit.

Arandu, Baltsistan.
Sunday 8th Sept 1895

My Dear Albert,
You will have heard one way or another that we have had to retrace our steps.
I am sorry that I shall not be able to give you any description of Hunza and Nagar and of the sites of the deeds of valour performed in those parts.
Anyhow, I will give you an account of our attempt on the Nushik La.
On Monday morning last, September 2nd, we turned out at 6.15, but as the collies were making their final arrangements, and we had to arrange light loads, it was 8.30 before we got started.
As I have said, the Chogo Longma (glacier) ends about ½ a mile up the valley from the village.
We first made our way down to the river, followed along it a little way, and then went up the hill side on our left and so reached the top of the south edge of the glacier.
Here we found the advanced party of our men waiting for the rest to come up.
While waiting, the indefatigable Gustaveson improved the occasion by preaching to the coolies.
Our party consisted of, beside Neve and myself and one cook, the Wazir of Shigar, who had arranged the whole bundabast, a guide - an old man who had been across the pass 30 years ago - 5 shikaris, who carried native ice axes, 13 coolies for our own kit and 16 for the Wazir and for carrying extra blankets and food, the Wazir’s gun carrier, a herd of 17 sheep and goats.
When all the men went up, Gustaveson bid no adieu and returned to Arandu, while we 41 humans and 17 beasts started across the glacier towards the narrow entrance to the Kero Longma nullah on the further side.

Take the Atlantic with a big cross sea on it, freeze it and cover it over with stones and dirt, and you might have some idea of the surface of this glacier.
We crossed it in half an hour, and then waited for the collies to catch up.
This Chogo Longma has never been explored, but it must be 25 or 30 miles long. It was from ½ to ¾ mile wide where we crossed.
For several miles the nullah up which we went is very narrow. The sides being on the further side precipitous rocks and on our steep debris slopes, the rocks and the slopes falling straight into the stream, which rushes down over stones and between boulders of enormous size.
The path we followed along the debris slopes was of the roughest description.
At 12.30, having come only 5 miles, we halted for breakfast, and marched on till we came to where the nullah widened a little, where was a grove of birches and willows and rose bushes. Here we waited a long time for the coolies.
Just here a glacier protrudes from a side ravine on the left, and blocked up the main nullah, the stream tunnelling right through it.
On either side of the glacier were moraines of debris about 100 feet high. We climbed up the moraine and crossed the glacier and descended the other side to a spot called Domok (“Ding Bransá” according to Neve’s account), where are a number of circular sleeping shelters and some birch trees, amongst which we camped.
This place is 11000 feet above sea level. We had come only 8 miles from Arundu - 8 hours march for coolies.
Before night, 14 more coolies came in from villages below Arundu to take the place of some Arundu men, so we were a party of 56 in camp that night
It was rather a weird sight, the groups of long-haired, wild-looking Baltis sitting around their various camp fires amongst the birch trees.

Eleven

Next morning (Tuesday 3rd) we turned out at 5.45, and got under way at 6.30.
From here the valley began to widen out.
We first crossed a grassy meadow, then moraine, and at 5½ miles reached the snout of the Kero Glacier which, with other side glaciers which come down from nullahs on both sides, fills the valley right across.
The snow peaks about the Nushik La now began to come into sight.
There was a certain amount of vegetation on the lower slopes of the mountain, and showed a certain amount of autumn colouring.
It rained while we were having breakfast, and later on in the morning it rained hard.
The first side glacier came down a nullah up on the right, and pushing right across, was heaped up on our side. We went up the slopes on our left to get beyond it.
The nullah, a broad one, down which it came was flanked on the south side by a range of very jagged mountains, as all are about here.
The second one coming from the left we had to cross, taking about 20 minutes. The stream had tunnelled through both of them.
The sun, shining through the mountain peaks, lit up the crests of the ice falls on the glacier further up the nullah - a fine sight.
The main Kero glacier, we found, reached this point and joined the one we crossed. We saw a herd of ibex on the heights above us and also saw tracks of bears.
We kept on another 2 miles along the moraine and camped at 2 o’clock.
The march was only 7 miles, and the coolies took 7 hours.
There was a small tarn close by in which Neve bathed. I thought the weather too cold for such indulgence, our height being now over 14,000ft. (Neve reported: “In the afternoon we bathed in a little tarn beside the glacier, but found it bitterly cold. There was a slight snow shower...”). Next morning (Wednesday) we found the tent was frozen, so waited till the sun was up before we took it down. We had let the coolies have the outer fly for extra shelter.
We left a few men here at Kulcha Branza with supplies to form a base camp in case we were delayed on the pass, and took on with us 12 coolies for our things, 3 for the Wazir, and 12 with firewood, blankets and food the for the coolies, besides the old guide and the 5 shikaris.
The guide took us onto the Kero Glacier and led across diagonally 3½ miles - in 2½ hours.
The first mile was over moraine, very rough going, then a level stretch over loose stones, and then a stretch of more-or-less naked ice. There were a few crevasses, but easily crossed.
Half a mile or so along moraine on the further side of the Kero brought us at 11 o’clock to a camping place “Ding Branza" at the foot of a spur between the Kero and a glacier coming from the right. There were some old stone shelters here, out of one of which a red bear bolted on our approach. Here we halted an hour for breakfast. (We were now at the east corner of a semicircle of mountains with peaks of 19,000ft or so from which 7 glaciers descend, forming the Kero Longma, the 3rd on our right coming down from Nushik La.
To reach our next camping place, about 2 miles of glacier had to be crossed, and in the 1st mile, a good many crevasses ran at right angles to our track, which entailed a good deal of going to and fro to get round or over them. There being no snow, there was no danger of falling in, but some places we crossed were rather nasty, the crevasses being very deep. The walls were a lovely transparent blue, and great icicles hung down where the sides overhung.
Our pace was slow as our guide was an old man - couldn’t get along very fast. Neve said his guiding was good.
I went ahead to get a photo of the party crossing the glacier, but couldn’t manage it. Instead I took one of the ice fall of the glacier coming from the Nushik where it drops suddenly into the main glacier.
Reaching the spur between the 2nd glacier and the Nushik one, we climbed up about 200 feet and found a flatish place, which had evidently been used as a camping place before as there were the remains of some old stone shelters. It had a name
- Stiatbu Branza - and its height was about 16,000 ft. With some levelling work, we just made enough room for our tents.

The view from here was splendid.
The lower part of the Kero Valley is enclosed on the West side by a range of rocky peaks of extraordinary sharpness, the strata being nearly vertical. Above them far down (beyond Arundu) rose the snow-clad Ganchen. Close round us 7 glaciers came down, and met in a confused mass of ice, from between a semi-circular range of snow peaks.
We got dinner at 6.45, but the height affected me somewhat so I wasn’t able to make much of it and felt a bit sick, with headache, but my troubles were forgotten in sleep.
The coolies were very busy all evening preparing paboo boots and gloves (soft leather goatskin with hair inside) for the morrow.
We slept on the ground tonight to save time in the morning.
The view, when the moon rose lighting up the snows was wonderful.