CLIMBING ON THE HIMALAYA AND OTHER MOUNTAIN RANGES Printed at the Edinburgh University Press, by T. and A. Constable, for DAVID DOUGLAS. CAMBUIDOE GLASGOW . . SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT AND CO., LTD. . MACMILLAN AND BOWKS. . JAMES MACI.EH08E AND SONS. CLIMBING ON THE HIMALAYA AND OTHER MOUNTAIN RANGES BY J. NORMAN COLLIE, F.R.S. MEMBER OF THE ALPINE CLUB EDINBURGH DAVID DOUGLAS 1902 All rights reserved Mr$m,J PREFACE After a book has been written, delivered to the publisher, and the proofs corrected, the author fondly imagines that little or no more is expected of him. All he has to do is to wait. In due time his child will be introduced to the world, and perhaps an enthusiastic public, by judicious com- ments on the virtues of the youngster, will make the parent proud of his offspring. Before, however, this much-desired event can take place, custom demands that a preface, or an introduction of the aforesaid youngster to polite society, must be written. Unfortunately also the parent has to compile a list or index of the various items of his progeny's belongings that are of interest ; so that nothing be left undone that may be of service to the young fellow, what time he makes his bow before a critical audience. In books on travel, nowadays, it is customary often ;7i75* vi PREFACE somewhat to scamp this necessary duty, and, after a few remarks in the preface, on subjects not always of absorbing interest, to conclude with the hope that the reader will be as interested in the description of places he has never seen as the author has been in writing about them. Of course, formerly these matters were better managed. In the ' Epistle Dedicatorie,' the author would at once begin with : — ' To the most Noble Earle ' — then with many apologies, all in the best English and most perfect taste, he, under the patronage of the aforesaid Noble Earle, would launch his venture on to the wide seas of publicity, or perhaps growing bolder, would put forth his wares with some such phrases as the following : — * And now, oh most ingenuous reader ! can you find narrated many adventures, both on the high mountains of the earth, and in far countries but little known to the vulgar. Here are landscapes brought home, and so faithfully wrought, that you must confess, none but the best engravers could work them. Here, too, may'st thou find described diverse parts of thine own native land.' PREFACE vii ' Choose that which pleaseth thee best. Not to detain thee longer, farewell ; and when thou hast considered thy purchase, may'st thou say, that the price of it was but a charity to thyself, so not ill spent.' J. N. C. 16 Campden Grove, London, 24th March 1902 NOTE Four of the chapters in this book have appeared before in the pages of the Scottish Mountaineering Club Journal (A Chuilionn, Wastdale Head, A Reverie, and the Oromaniacal Quest). They all, hoAvever, have been partly rewritten, so the author trusts that he may be excused for offering to the public wares which are not entirely fresh. The Fragment from a Lost MS., and part of the chapter on the Lofoten Islands, were first printed in the Alpine Journal. The author also takes this opportunity of thanking Mr. Colin B. Phillip, first, for allowing photogravure reproductions to be made of two of bis pictures (The Coolin and the Macgillicuddy's Eeeks), and secondly, for the great trouble Mr. Phillip took in producing the three sketches of the Himalayan mountains which are to be found in the text. CONTENTS The Himalaya- i. General History of Mountaineering in the Himalaya, . 1 II. Our Journey out to Nanga Parbat, .... 25 in. The Eupal Nullah, 38 iv. First Journey to Diamirai Nullah and the Diamirai Pass, ......... 57 v. Second Journey to Diamirai Nullah and Ascent to 21,000 feet, 70 vi. Ascent of the Diamirai Peak, 85 vn. Attempt to ascend Nanga Parbat, .... 104 viii. The Indus Valley and Third Journey to Diamirai Nullah, 118 The Canadian Rocky Mountains, 135 The Alps, 165 The Lofoten Islands, 185 A Chuilionn, 211 The Mountains of Ireland, 225 Prehistoric Climbing near Wastdale Head, . . . 245 A Reverie, 263 The Oromaniacal Quest, 283 Fragment from a Lost MS., 299 Notes on the Himalayan Mountains, 305 Index, 311 LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS A Stormy Sunset, Frontispiece A Himalayan Camp, To face page 2 A Himalayan Nullah, „ „ 38 The Diamirai Pass from the Red Pass, „ ,, 62 The Mazeno Peaks from the Red Pass, „ „ 74 The Diamirai Peak from the Red Pass, „ „ 88 View of the Diamirai Peak from the Red Pass, „ „ 90 On Nanga Parbat, from Upper Camp, . . „ „ 104 Nanga Parbat from the Diamirai Glacier, . „ ,, 110 Do. Do. Do., . „ „ 112 View of Diama Glacier from Slopes of Diamirai Peak, „ „ 116 The Diama Pass from the Rakiot Nullah, . „ „ 120 The Chongra Peaks from the Red Pass, . . „ ,,122 The Freshfield Glacier, „ „ 148 A Crevasse on Mont Blanc, ....„„ 166 Lofoten, „ „ 186 The CoolIxV, „ „ 212 The Macgillicuddy's Reeks, ....„„ 226 LIST OF MAPS Map of Kashmir, . Map of Nanga Parbat, . To face page 28 40 Canadian Rocky Mountains. Map of the Ice- fields and the Mountains, . 144 CHAPTER I GENERAL HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING IN THE HIMALAYA ' Let him spend his time no more at home, Which would be great impeachment to his age In having known no travel in his youth.' Shakespeare. At some future date, how many years hence who can tell ? all the wild places on the earth will have been explored. The Cape to Cairo railway will have brought the various sources of the Nile within a few days' travel of England ; the endless fields of barren ice that surround the poles will have yielded up their secrets ; whilst the vast and trackless fastnesses of that stupendous range of mountains which eclipses all others, and which from time immemorial has served as a barrier to roll back the waves of barbaric invasion from the fertile plains of Hindustan — these . Himalaya will have been mapped, and the highest points in the world above sea-level will have been visited by man. Most certainly that time will come. Yet the Himalaya, 2 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING although conquered, will remain, still they will be the greatest range of mountains on earth, but will t!' TORY OF MOUNTAINEERING made which would have been impossible under other circumstances — for on the mountains the diffi- culties and the dangers shared in common by all are the surest means for showing a man as he really is — a sport which renews our youth, banishes all sordid cares, ministers to mind and body diseased, invigor- ating and restoring the whole — surely such a sport can be second to none ! But as access to the Alps and other snow ranges becomes easier year by year, the mountaineer, should he wish to test his powers against the unclimbed hills, must perforce go further afield. There are still, however, unclimbed mountains enough and to spare for many years yet to come. In the Himalaya the peaks exceeding 24,000 feet in height, that have been measured., number over fifty, 1 whilst those above 20,000 feet may be counted by the thousand. Every year, officers of the Indian Army and others in search of game wander through the valleys which come down from the great ranges, but up to the present time only a few mountaineering expeditions have been made to this marvellous mountain land. For this there are many reasons. The distance of India from England precludes the busy man from spending his summer vacation there ; the natural difficulties of the 1 See p. 307. IN THE HIMALAYA 7 country, the lack of provisions, the total absence of roads, and lastly, the disturbed political conditions, make any ordinary expedition impossible. More- over, although the English are supposed to hold the southern slopes of the Himalaya, yet it is a curious fact that almost from the eastern end of this range in Bhutan to the western limit in the Hindu Kush above Chitral we are rigorously excluded. About the eastern portion of the Himalaya in Bhutan, and the mountains surround- ing the gorge through which the Bramaputra flows, we know very little, as only some of the higher peaks have been surveyed from a distance. Next in order, to the westward, comes Sikkim, one of the few districts in the Himalaya where Europeans can safely travel under the very shadows of the great peaks. Next comes the native state of Nepaul, stretching for five hundred miles, the borders of which no white man can cross, except those who are sent by the Indian Government as political agents, etc., to the capital, Katmandu. It is evident at once to any one looking at the map of India, that Nepaul and Bhutan hold the keys of the doors through which Chinese trade might come south. The breaks in the main chain in many places allow of trade - routes, and in times gone by even Chinese armies have poured 8 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING through these passes and successfully invaded Nepaul. The idea of establishing friendly relations be- tween India and this Trans-Himalayan region was one of the many wise and far-reaching political as- pirations of Warren Hastings. On it he spent much of his time and thought. His policy was carried out consistently during the time he was Governor- General of India, and commercial intercourse during that period seemed to be well established. Four separate embassies were sent to Bhutan, one of which extended its operations to Tibet. This first British Mission to penetrate beyond the Himalaya was that under Mr. George Bogle in 1774. But on the removal of Warren Hastings from India, these admirable methods of establishing a friendly acquaintance with the powers in Bhutan and Tibet were at once abandoned. It is true that a quarter of a century later, in 1811, Mr. Thomas Manning, a private individual, performed the extraordinary feat of reaching Lhasa, and saw the Dalai Lama, a feat that to this day has not been repeated by an Englishman. But when the guiding hand and head of Warren Hastings no longer ruled India, this commercial policy sank into complete oblivion. From that clay to the present little intercourse of any kind seems to have been held between the IN THE HIMALAYA 9 English Government and those states in that border land between India and China. 1 On the west of Nepaul lie Kuraaon, Garhwal, Kulu, and Spiti. Through most of these districts the Englishman can wander, which is also the case with Kashmir to a certain extent. The sources of the rivers that emerge from these Himalayan mountains are almost unknown, except in the case of the Ganges, which rises in the Gangootri peaks in Garhwal. The upper waters of the Indus, the Sutlej, the Bramaputra (or Sanpu), and the numberless rivers emerging from Nepaul and flowing into the Ganges, in almost every case come from beyond the range we call the Himalaya. Their sources lie in that unknown land north of the so-called main chain. Whether there is a loftier and more magnificent range behind is at present doubtful, but reports of higher peaks further north than Devadhunga (Mount Everest) reach us from time to time. The Indian Govern- ment occasionally sends out trained natives from the survey department to collect information about these districts where Englishmen are forbidden to go, and it is to their efforts that the various details 1 Narratives of the Mission oj George Bogle to Tibet and of the Journey of Thomas Manning to Lhasa. By Clements R. Markham, C.B., F.R.S. 1876. 10 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING we tind on maps relating to these countries are due. Some day the lower ranges leading up to the great snow-covered mountains will be opened to the English. Sanatoria will be established, tea j limitations will appear on the slopes of the Nepaulese hills, as is now the case at Darjeeling, and then only will the exploration of the mountains really begin, for which, at the present day, as far as Tibet and Nepaul are concerned, we have even less facilities than the Schlagintweits and Hooker had forty to fifty years ago. From the mountaineer's point of view, little has been accomplished amongst the Himalaya, and of the thousands of peaks of 20,000 feet and upwards hardly twenty have been climbed. The properly equipped expeditions made to these mountains merely for the sport of mountaineering may be said to be less than half a dozen. Of course the officers in charge of the survey department have done invaluable work, which, however, often had to be carried out by men unacquainted (from a purely climbing point of view) with the higher developments of mountain craft. To this, however, there are exceptions, notably Mr. W. H. Johnson, who worked on the Karakoram range. To omit work done by the earlier travellers, the first prominent piece of mountaineering seems to IN THE HIMALAYA 11 have been achieved by Captain Gerard in the Spiti district. In the year 1818 he attempted the ascent of Leo Porgyul, but was unsuccessful after reaching a height of 19,400 feet (trigonometrically surveyed). Ten years later he made the first successful ascent of a mountain (unnamed) of 20,400 feet. Speaking of his wanderings in 1817-21, he says: 'I have visited thirty-seven places at different times between 14,000 and 19,400 feet, and thirteen of my camps were upwards of 15,000 feet.' During the years 1848-49-50 Sir Joseph Hooker made his famous journeys into the Himalaya from Darjeeling through Sikkim. Obtaining leave to travel in East Nepaul, he traversed a district that since then has been entirely closed to Europeans. By travelling to the westward of Darjeeling he crossed into Nepaul, explored the Tambur river as far as Wal- lanchoon, whence he ascended to the head of a snow pass, 16,756 feet, leading over to the valley of the Arun river, which rises far away northward of Kanchenjunga. On the pass he experienced his first attack of mountain sickness, suffering from headache, giddiness, and lassitude. At this point he was probably nearer to Devadhunga 1 (Mount Everest) than any European has ever been, the mountain being only fifty miles away. From the 1 Tibetan name : Joino-kaug-kar. 12 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING summit of another pass in East Nepaul, the Choon- jerma pass, 10,000 feet, he no doubt saw Devad- hunga. From here he returned to Sikkim, and travelled to Mon Lepcha, immediately at the south- west of Kanehenjunga. During the next year he visited the passes on the north-east of Kanehenjunga leading into Tibet and ascended three of them, the Kongra Lama pass, 15,745 feet; the Tunkra pass, 16,083 feet; and the Donkia pass, 18,500 feet. From Bhomtso, 18,590 feet, the highest and most northerly point reached by him, a magnificent view to the northward into Tibet was obtained ; and Dr. Hooker mentions having seen from this point two immense mountains over one hundred miles distant to the north of Nepaul. It was during his return to Darjeeling that he and Dr. Campbell were made prisoners by the Raja of Sikkim. During the years 1854-58 the two brothers, Adolf and Robert Schlagintweit wandered through a large portion of the Himalaya. They were the first explorers who possessed any real knowledge of snow work, having gained their experience in the Alps. Starting from Nynee Tal they followed the Pindar river to its source, just under the southern slopes of Nanda Devi. Then crossing to the north-east by a pass about 17,700 feet high, they reached Milam on the Gori river, whence they IN THE HIMALAYA 13 penetrated into Tibet over several passes averaging 18,000 feet. In this district, never since visited by Europeans, they made more than one glacier expedition, finally returning over the main chain, close to Kamet or Ibi Gamin (25,443 feet), on the slopes of which they remained for a fortnight, their highest camp being at 19,326 feet. An un- successful attempt was made on the peak, for they were forced to retreat after ha vino- reached an altitude of 22,259 feet. Returning over the Mana pass to the valley of the Sarsuti river, they descended to Badrinath. The upper valley of the Indus north of Kashmir was next explored, and Adolf, having crossed the Karakoram pass, was murdered at Kashgar. 1 In the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Bengal (vol. xxxv.) will be found a paper by the two brothers on the ' Comparative Hypsometrical and Physical Features of High Asia, the Andes, and the Alps,' which deals in a most interesting manner with the respec- tive features of these several mountain ranges. In the years 1860-1865 Mr. W. H. Johnson, whilst engaged on the Kashmir Survey, established a large number of trigonometrical stations at a height of over 20,000 feet. One of his masonry 1 Cp. Travels in Laddk Tartary and Kashmir, Lieut. -Colonel Torrens. 1862, pp. 350-360, Appendix. U HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING plat tonus on the top of a peak 21,500 feet high is Baid to be visible from Leh in Ladak. The highest point he probably reached was during an expedi- tion made from the district Changchenmo north of the Pangong lake in the year 1864. Travelling northwards he made his way through the moun- tains to the Yarkand road, and at one point, being unable to proceed, he found it necessary to climb over the mountain range at a height of 22,300 feet, where the darkness overtook him, and he was forced to spend the night at 22,000 feet. In the next year, 1865, on his journey to Khutan he was obliged to wait for permission to enter Turkestan ; and being anxious to obtain as much knowledge of the country to the north as possible, he climbed three peaks— E 57 , 21,757 feet; E 58 , 21,971 feet; and E 61 , 23,890 feet (?). The heights of the first two mountains have been accurately determined by a series of trigonometrical observations, but there has probably been some error made in the height of the last, E 61 . Mr. Johnson was a most enthusiastic moun- taineer, and, owing to a suggestion made by him and Mr. Drew to the Asiatic Society of Bengal, efforts were made in 1866 to form a Himalayan Club, but through want of support and sympathy the club was never started. Mountaineering was IN THE HIMALAYA ,15 indeed in those days so little appreciated by the political department of India that this journey of Mr. Johnson's in 1865 was made the excuse for a reprimand, owing to which he left the Service and took employment under the Maharaja of Kashmir. About the same time that Johnson was explor- ing the district to the north and north-east of Ladak, the officers of the survey, Captain T. G. Montgomerie, H. H. Godwin Austen, and others, were actively at work on the Astor Gilgit and Skardu districts. They pushed glacier exploration much further than had been done before ; and it is quite remarkable how much they accomplished when one considers that in those days climbers had only just learned the use of ice-axes and ropes, and the knowledge of ice and snow even in the Alps was very limited. The exploration of the Baltoro glacier, the discovery of the second highest peak in the Himalaya — K 2 , 28,278 feet— and the peaks Gusherbrum and Masherbrum, by H. H. Godwin Austen, and his ascent of the Punmah glacier to the old Mustagh pass will remain as marvels of mountain exploration. In the next ten or fifteen years but little mountaineering was done in the Himalaya. The Government Survey in Garhwal, Kumaon, and Sikkim was carried on, and more correct maps of L6 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING the mountain ranges in these parts were issued. < )n Kamet about 22,000 feet was reached. In Sikkim, Captain Harman, during his work for the survey, made several attempts to climb some of the loftier peaks. He revisited the Donkia pass, and, like Dr. Hooker, saw from it the two enormous peaks far away to the north of Nepaul. In order to measure their height trigonometrically, he re- mained on the summit of the pass (18,500 feet) all night, but unfortunately was so severely frost- bitten that ultimately he was invalided home. In the year 1883 Mr. W. W. Graham started for India with the Swiss guide Joseph Imboden, on a purely mountaineering expedition ; he first went to Sikkim, then attacked the group round Nanda Devi in Garhwal, and later returned to Sikkim and the mountains near Kanchenjimga. This expedition of Graham's remains still the most successful mountaineering effort that has been made amongst the Himalaya. No less than seven times was he above 20,000 feet on the mountains, the three highest ascents being, Kabru (Sikkim), 24,015 feet, A" 1 or Mount Monal (Garhwal), 22,516 feet, and a height of 22,500 - 22,700 feet on Dunagiri (Garhwal). It is perhaps to be regretted that Graham did not write a book setting forth in detail all his experiences, though a short account of IN THE HIMALAYA 17 his travels and ascents may be found in vol. xii. of the Alpine Club Journal. Arriving at Darjeeling early in 1883, he and Imboden made their way to Jongri just under Kanchenjunga on the south-west, and climbed a peak, Kang La, 20,300 feet. The Guicho La (pass), 16,000 feet, between Kanchenjunga and Pundim, was ascended, but as the end of March was much too early in the year for climbing, they returned to Dar- jeeling, and Imboden then went back to Europe. It was not till the end of June that Graham was joined by Emil Boss and Ulrich Kauffmann, who came out from Grindelwald. They started from Nynee Tal to attack Nanda Devi, travelling to Rini on the Dhauli river, just to the westward of Nanda Devi. From Rini they proceeded up the Rishiganga, which runs down from the glaciers on the west of Nanda Devi, but they were stopped in the valley by an impassable gorge that had been cut by a glacier descending from the Trisuli peaks. Obliged to retreat, they next at- tacked Dunagiri, 23,184 feet; after climbing over two peaks, 17,000 and 18,000 feet, they camped at 18,400 feet, and finally got to a point from which they could see the top of A 22 , 21,001 feet over the top of A 21 , 22,516 feet, and must therefore have been at least at a height of 22,700 feet. Unfortunately 18 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING hail, wind, and snow drove Graham and Boss off the peak within 500 feet of the top — Kauffmann had given in some distance lower down — and it was only with difficulty that they were able to return to their camp, which Mas reached in the dark. The weather then obliged them to return to Itini, from which place they again started for Nanda Devi. This time they went up the north bank of the Rishi- ganga. After illness, the desertion of their coolies, and all the sufferings produced by cold and wet weather, they reached the glacier in four days, only to find that again they were cut off from it by a per- pendicular cliff of 200 feet, down which the glacier torrent poured. Their attempt to cross the stream was also fruitless ; so, baffled for the second time, they were forced to return to their camping-ground under Dunagiri at Dunassau, from which place they climbed A 21 , 22,516 feet, by the western ridge, calling it Mount Monal. They then tried A 22 , 21,001 feet, but were stopped by difficult rocks after reaching a point about 20,000 feet. By the middle of August Graham was back again in Sikkim and got to Jongri by September 2. With Boss and Kauffmann he explored the west side of Kabru and the glacier which comes down from Kanchenjunga, But the weather was continuously bad ; they started to climb Jubonu, but were turned back. Then they IN THE HIMALAYA 19 crossed the Guicho La to ascend Pundim, but found it impossible ; more bad weather kept them idle till the end of the month. They then managed to ascend Jubonu, 21,300 feet. A few days later they went up the glacier which lies on the south-east of Kabru, camping at 18,400 feet; and starting at 4.30 a.m. they succeeded, owing to a favourable state of the mountain, in reaching the summit, 24,015 feet (or rather, the summit being cleft into three gashes, they got into one of these, about 30 feet from the true top). It was not till 10 p.m. that they returned to their camp. The last peak they ascended was one 19,000 feet on the Nepaul side of the Kang La. Thus ended this most re- markable series of ascents, carried out often under the most difficult circumstances. Graham, from his account of his travels, was evidently not a man to talk about all the discomforts and hardships of climbing at these altitudes, and this lack of infor- mation about his feelings and sensations above 20,000 feet has been urged against him as a proof that he never got to 24,000 feet at all. But any one who will take the trouble to read his account of the ascent of Kabru, cannot fail to admit that he must have climbed the peak lying on the south-west of Kanchenjunga, viz. Kabru, for there is no other high peak there which he could have ascended 20 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING from his starting-point except Kanchenjunga itself; moreover, unless he had climbed Kabru, neither he nor Emil Boss could have seen Devadhunga nor the two enormous peaks to the north-west, which they distinctly state must be higher than Devadhunga. Now, if they climbed Kabru, they were at a height of 24,000 feet whether they had a barometer with them or not, for that is the height determined by the Ordnance Survey. The heights reached in all their other completed ascents are vouched for in the same way, for if a mountain has been properly measured by triangu- lation, its height is known with a greater degree of accuracy than can ever be obtained by taking a barometer to the summit. The next real mountaineering expedition after that of Graham was in 1892, when Sir Martin Conway, together with Major Bruce, and M. Zur- briggen as guide, explored a large part of the Mustagh range. In all they made some sixteen ascents to heights of 16,000 feet and upwards, the highest being Pioneer peak, 22,600 feet. Arriving at Gilgit in May, when much winter snow still lay low down on the mountains, they first explored the Bagrot nullah. Here they ascended several glaciers and surveyed the country. But huge avalanches continually falling entirely stopped IN THE HIMALAYA 21 any high climbing. They therefore went into the Hunza Nagyr valley as far as Nagyr. In the mean- time, as the weather was bad, they investigated first the Samayar and afterwards the Shallihu.ru glaciers. At the head of the former a pass was climbed, the Daranshi saddle, 17,940 feet, and a peak called the Dasskaram needle, 17,660 feet. They then returned to the Nagyr valley and reached the foot of the great Hispar glacier, 10,320 feet. From here they travelled to the Hispar pass, 17,650 feet, nearly forty miles, thence down the Biafo glacier, another thirty miles. The Hispar pass is therefore the longest snow pass traversed outside the Arctic regions. About half way up the Hispar glacier Bruce left Conway and climbed over the Nushik La, but joined him again later at Askole. From Askole the Baltoro glacier was ascended. Near its head the summit of Crystal peak, 19,400 feet, on the north side of the valley, was reached. From the summit, the Mustagh tower, a rival in height to K 2 , 28,278 feet, was seen. To quote Con- way's description : ' Away to the left, peering over a neighbouring rib like the one we were ascending, rose an astonishing tower. Its base was buried in clouds, and a cloud- banner waved on one side of it, but the bulk was clear, and the right-hand outline was a vertical cliff. We afterwards dis- 22 HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING covered that it was equally vertical on the other side. This peak rises in the immediate vicinity of the Mustagh pass, and is one of the most extra- ordinary mountains for form we anywhere beheld.' Two days later they made another climb on a ridge to the east, and parallel to the one previously climbed. From here they first saw K 2 . Amongst the magnificent circle of peaks that surrounded them at this spot, many of which were over 25,000 feet, one only seemed to offer any chance of being climbed. This was the Golden Throne. It stands at the head of the Baltoro glacier, differing greatly in form and structure from its neighbours ; and of all the mountains it seemed most accessible. Amongst, however, the enormous glaciers and snowfields that eclipse probably those of any other mountains in ordinary latitudes, even to arrive at the beginning of the climbing was a problem of much difficulty. To again quote : ' We struggled round the base of the Golden Throne, up 2000 feet of ice-fall to a plateau where we camped ; then we forced a camp on to a second, and again on to a third platform .... we got daily weaker as we ascended .... we finally reached the foot of the ridge which was to lead us, as we supposed, to the top of the Golden Throne. It was an ice-ridge, and not as we hoped of snow, IN THE HIMALAYA 23 and it did not lead us to the top but to a detached point in the midst of the two main buttresses of the Throne.' This peak they named Pioneer peak, 22,600 feet. After this climb they returned to Kashmir. Major Bruce, who accompanied Sir M. Conway in this expedition, has been climbing in the Himalaya for many years. In 1893, whilst at Chitral with Capt. F. Younghusband, he ascended Ispero Zorn. In July of the same year he made several ascents near Hunza on the Dhaltar peaks — the highest point reached being 18,000 feet. During August of the same year he climbed to 17,000 feet above Phekkar near Nagyr, with Cap- tain B. E. M. Gurdon, and even in December, at Dharmsala, he had some mountaineering. Major Bruce has done some excellent mountain- eering in a district that may be said to be his alone, namely in Khaghan, a district south-west of Nanga Parbat and north of Abbottabad. Here, in company with Harkabir Thapa and other Gurkhas, a great deal of climbing has been accomplished, the district having been visited almost every year since 1894. The best piece of climbing in Khaghan was the ascent of the most northern Ragee-Bogee peaks (16,700 feet), by Harkabir Thapa alone. This peak is close to the Shikara pass, though separated by one peak from it. HISTORY OF MOUNTAINEERING Another district visited by Major Bruce in 1898 was in Ladakh cast of Kashmir — the Nun Kun range. Several new passes were traversed, and peaks up to 19,500 feet were climbed. 1 There is certainly no mountaineer who has a record of Himalayan climbing to compare with Major Bruce's, ranging as it does from Chitral on the west to Sikkim on the east. In fact, to show how the mountains exercise a magnetic influence on him, in the summer of 1898 he saw, what no one had ever seen before, in the short space of tw T o months, the three highest mountains in the world : Devadhunga, K 2 , and Kanchenjunga. In 1898 Dr. and Mrs. Bullock Workman traversed several passes in Ladak, Nubra, and Suru ; and in 1899, with M. Zurbriggen as guide, went to Askole and up the Biafo glacier to the Hispar Pass. Then they climbed the Siegfried Horn, 18, GOO feet, and Mount Bullock- Workman, 19,450 feet, both near the Skoro La. Afterwards, returning to the Shigar val- ley, Mount Koser Gunge, 21,000 feet, was ascended. The last mountaineering expedition to the Hima- laya was that of Mr. Douglas Freshfield, who, in com- pany with Signor V. Sella, Mr. E. Garwood, and A. Maquignaz as guide, made the tour of Kanchen- junga, crossing the Jonsong La, 21,000 feet. 1 Alpine Journal, vol. xx. p. 311. CHAPTEE II OUR JOURNEY OUT TO NANGA PARBAT ' And go Eastward along the sea, to mount the lands Beyond man's dwelling, and the rising steeps That face the sun untrodden and unnamed. — Know to earth's verge remote thou then art come, The Scythian tract and wilderness forlorn, Through whose rude rocks and frosty silences No path shall guide thee then, . . . There as thou toilest o'er the treacherous snows.' E, Bridges. Amongst mountaineers, who has not at some time or another looked at the map of India, wishing at the same time for an opportunity to visit the Himalaya ? to see Kanchenjunga, Devadhunga, Nanda Devi, Nanga Parbat, or any of the hundreds of snow- clad mountains, every one of which is higher than the loftiest peaks of other lands ? to wander through the valleys filled with tropical vegetation until the higher grounds are reached, where the great glaciers lie like frozen rivers amidst the white mountains, while the green pasturages and pine woods below bask in the sunshine ? to travel through the land where all natural things are on OUR JOURNEY OUT i big scale, a land of great rivers and mighty mountains, a land where even the birds and beasts are of larger size, a land that was peopled many centuries ago with civilised races, when Western Europe was in a state of barbarism ? But these Himalaya are far away, and often as one may wish some day to start for this marvellous land, yet the propitious day never dawns, and less ambi- tious journeys are all that the Fates will allow. Although it had seemed most unlikely that I should ever be fortunate enough to visit the Hima- laya, yet at last the time arrived when my dream became a reality. I have seen the great mountains of the Hindu Kush and the Karakoram ranges, from Tirach Mir over Chitral to K 2 at the head of the Baltoro glacier ; I have wandered in that waste land, the marvellous gorge of the Indus. I have stopped at Chilas, one of the outposts of civilisation in the wild Shinaki country, where not many years ago no white man could venture. I have passed through the defile at Lechre, where in 1841 a landslip from the northern buttress of Nanga Parbat dammed back the whole Indus for six months, until finally the pent-up masses of water, breaking suddenly through the thousands of feet of debris, burst with irresistible force down through that unknown mountain-land lying TO NANGA PARBAT 27 below Chilas for many hundreds of miles, till at last the whirling flood, no longer hemmed in by the hills, swept out on to the open plains near Attock, and in one night annihilation was the fate of a whole Sikh army. Also I have seen the northern side of the mighty Nanga Parbat, the greatest mountain face in the whole world, rising without break from the scorching sands of the Bunji plain, first to the cool pine woods and fertile valleys five thousand feet above, next to the glaciers, and further back and higher to the ice-clad avalanche- swept precipices which ring round the topmost snows of Nanga Parbat itself, whose summit towers 26,629 feet above sea-level, and 23,000 feet above the Indus at its base : whilst further to the north- ward Rakipushi and Haramosh, both 25,000 feet high, seem only to be outlying sentinels of grander and loftier ranges behind. It was in 1894 that the late Mr. A. F. Mummery and Mr. G. Hastings arranged that if they could obtain permission from the Indian Government to visit that part of Kashmir in which Nanga Parbat lies, they would start from England in June 1895, and attempt the ascent. Early in 1895 I made such arrangements (owing to the kindness of Professor Ramsay of London University College) that I was able to join the expedition. 28 OUR JOURNEY OUT We left England on June 20, joining the P. and 0. steamer Caledonia at Brindisi. The voyage was delightful till we left Aden — even in the Red Sea the temperature never rising above 00°, — but once in the Indian Ocean we experienced the full force of the monsoon ; and it was exceedingly rough from there to Bombay, which we reached on July 5. Two days later we arrived at Rawul Pindi, having had a very hot journey on the railway, a maximum of 103° being experienced between Umballa and Kawul Pindi. At the latter place the foothills of the Himalaya were seen for the first time, rising out of the plains of the Panjab. And that night, amidst a terrific thunderstorm, the breaking of the monsoon on the hills, we slept in dak bungalow just short of Murree. From Bawul Pindi to Baramula, in the vale of Kashmir, an excellent road exists, along which one is able to travel in a tonga. These strongly built two-wheel carriages complete the journey of about one hundred and seventy miles in two or three days. Owing, however, to the monsoon rain, we found the road in many places in a perilous condition. Bridges had been washed away, great boulders many feet thick had rolled down the mountain - side sometimes to find a resting-place in the middle of the road, sometimes *, ^ ^> Q P«r © *<•/'«■>?> M /spar JPass Askole. Scale of English Mil.- Routes Heights in feet Q Mustajh^^ Godwin Austen Tower** K, •. 2a278 27000 ^J jh, . K! < £~ Glacier 26*83 "** ^31^^ 25
^ v <$> «4 Rem, #G Q °lek **x ° Chamba J Barttolcnuev ,', '. ' \ TO NANGA PARBAT 29 to go crashing through it ; in one place the whole mountain-side was slowly moving down, road and all, into the Jhelum river below at the bottom of the valley. But on the evening of July 9 we safely reached Baramula. Beyond Baramula it is necessary to take a flat- bottomed boat or punt, called a dunga, traversing the vale of Kashmir by water. This valley of Kashmir, about which so much has been written, is beyond all adequate description. Situated as it is, 6000 feet above sea - level, in an old lake basin amongst the Himalaya, its climate is almost perfect. A land of lakes and waterways, splendid trees and old ruins, vines, grass-lands, flowers, and pine forests watered by cool streams from the snow ranges that encircle it, with a climate during the summer months like that of the south of France — no wonder this valley of Kashmir is beautiful. In length about eighty miles, and twenty-five miles in breadth, it lies surrounded by giant peaks. Haramukh, 16,903 feet, is quite close ; to the east- ward rise the Nun Kun peaks, 23,447 feet ; whilst to the north Nanga Parbat, 26,629 feet high, can be seen from the hill stations. The atmospheric colours in the clear air are for ever changing, and no better description of them can be given than one TO NANGA PARBAT 29 to go crashing through it ; in one place the whole mountain-side was slowly moving down, road and all, into the Jhelum river below at the bottom of the valley. But on the evening of July 9 we safely reached Baramula. Beyond Baramula it is necessary to take a flat- bottomed boat or punt, called a dunga, traversing the vale of Kashmir by water. This valley of Kashmir, about which so much has been written, is beyond all adequate description. Situated as it is, 6000 feet above sea - level, in an old lake basin amongst the Himalaya, its climate is almost perfect. A land of lakes and waterways, splendid trees and old ruins, vines, grass-lands, flowers, and pine forests watered by cool streams from the snow ranges that encircle it, with a climate during the summer months like that of the south of France — no wonder this valley of Kashmir is beautiful. In length about eighty miles, and twenty-five miles in breadth, it lies surrounded by giant peaks. Haramukh, 16,903 feet, is quite close ; to the east- ward rise the Nun Kun peaks, 23,447 feet ; whilst to the north Nanga Parbat, 26,629 feet high, can be seen from the hill stations. The atmospheric colours in the clear air are for ever changing, and no better description of them can be given than one OUR JOURNEY OUT by Walter EL Lawrence in his classical work on the VnJI ci/ of Kashmir, where as settlement officer Bpent several years. He says, 'In the early morning the mountains are often a delicate semi- o transparent violet, relieved against a saffron sky and with light vapours clinging round their crests. Then the rising sun deepens shadows and produces sharp outlines and strong passages of purple and indigo in the deep ravines. Later on it is nearly all blue and lavender with white snow peaks and ridges under a vertical sun, and as the afternoon wears on these become richer violet and pale bronze, gradually changing to rose and pink with yellow and orange snow, till the last rays of the sun have gone, leaving the mountains dyed a ruddy crimson, with snows showing a pale creamy green by contrast. Looking downward from the mountains, the valley in the sunshine has the hues of the opal ; the pale reds of the Karewa, the vivid light greens of the young rice, and the darker shades of the groves of trees, relieved by sunlit sheets, gleams of water, and soft blue haze, give a com- bination of tints reminding one irresistibly of the changing hues of that gem. It is impossible to do justice to the beauty and the grandeur of the mountains of Kashmir, or to enumerate the lovely glades and forests visited by so few.' TO NANGA PARBAT 31 Nowadays Kashmir is a prosperous country. But before the settlement operations were taken in hand (1887) by Lawrence the country-people were suffering from every kind of abuse and tyranny. Now it is all changed, and under the rule of Maha- raja Pratab Singh, who resolved that this settlement should be carried out and gave it his loyal support, the country-folk are contented and prosperous ; the fields are properly cultivated, without fear that the harvest will be reaped by some extortionate official ; the houses are rebuilt, and the orchards, gardens, and vineyards are well looked after. It was not till my return from the mountains that I had a chance of spending a few days in this fascinating valley. After leaving Baramula our route lay for some time up the Jhelum river, which drains most of the vale of Kashmir ; but soon we emerged on the Woolar lake, and in the grey morning light the hills that completely encircle the valley could be partly seen through the long streams of white mist that draped them. The lake was perfectly calm, and reflected on its surface the nearer hills. Soon we came to miles of floating water-lilies in bloom, whilst on the banks quaint mud houses and farms, encircled with poplar, walnut, and chenar trees, were visible ; and, beyond, great distances of 82 OUR JOURNEY OUT prrasfl Lands and orchards stretched back to the mountains. But we were not across the lake. From the westward a rain- cloud was approaching, and soon the whole face of nature was changed. Small waves arose ; then a blast of wind swept down part of the matting which served as an awning to our boat, and in a moment we were in danger of being swamped. The rowers at once began to talk wildly, evidently in great fear of drowning. Several other dungas, which were near and in the same plight as our own, came up, so all the boats were lashed together by ropes. Meanwhile the women and children (for the Kashmiri lives on the dunga with his wife and family) were screaming and throwing rice on the troubled waters, presumably to propitiate the evil beings who were responsible for the perilous state of affairs, and seemingly this offering to the gods was effective, for the angry deity, the storm-cloud, passed on, the wind dropped, and without further adventure we made land at Bandipur on the northern shore of the lake in warm sunshine. Here we found ponies which had been hired for us by Major C. G. Bruce of the 5th Gurkhas. He had travelled all the way from Khaghan to Kashmir in order to engage servants, ponies, etc., TO NANGA PARBAT 33 and had spent a fortnight out of a month's leave in arranging these matters for us who were strangers to him. Since that time I have seen much more of Bruce, but I shall always remember this kind- ness. I may also say that during the whole of our expedition the military and political officers, and others whom we met, invariably helped us in every way possible. On July 11 we loaded the ponies with our baggage and started for Nanga Parbat. Our route lay over the Tragbal or Raj Diangan pass, 11,950 feet. On the further side we descended to Kan- jalwan in the valley of the Kishnganga river. Up this valley about twelve miles is the village of Gurais, where we were nearly stopped by the tahsildar, a most important village official. We wanted more ponies, which he of course promised, but next morning they were not forthcoming. Messages were useless, and seemingly persuasion also was of no avail, he assuring us that there were no ponies, and telling us every kind of lie with the utmost oriental politeness. Mummery was, how- ever, equal to the occasion. He wrote out a telegram, which of course he never intended to send, the contents of which he had translated to the tahsildar. It was addressed to the British Resident at Srinagar, asking what should be done 34 OUR JOURNEY OUT with a miserable official at Gurais who would give us neither help nor ponies. The effect was magical. In less than ten minutes we had three times as many ponies as we wanted, and that too in a dis- trict where everything with four legs was being pressed into the service of the Gilgit commissariat. The tahsildar rode several miles up the valley with us, finally insisting that Mummery should ride his pony, and return it after two or three days when convenient. Just above Gurais we left the valley of the Kishnganga, and turned to the left or north-east up the valley of the Burzil. From this valley two passes lead over the range into the country that drains down the Astor nullah to the Indus : the first is the Kamri, 12,438 feet, the second the Burzil or Dorikoon pass, 13,900 feet, over which the military road to Gilgit has been made. Both these passes ultimately lead to Astor. We chose the Kamri, for we were told that better forage for our ponies could be obtained on the northern slopes. We crossed the pass on July 14, finding still some of the winter snows unmelted on the top. From the summit we had our first view of Nanga Parbat, over forty miles away, but rising in dazzling whiteness far above all the intervening ranges. There is nothing in the Alps that can at all com- TO NANGA PARBAT 35 pare with it in grandeur, and although often one is unable to tell whether a mountain is really big, or only appears so, this was not the case with Nanga Parbat as seen from the Kamri. It was huge, immense ; and instinctively we took off our hats in order to show that we approached in a proper spirit. Two days later we camped at Rattu, where we found Lieutenant C. G. Stewart encamped with his mountain battery. He showed us the guns (weigh- ing 2 cwt. each) which he had taken over the Shandur pass in deep snow when accompanying Colonel Kelly from Gilgit to the relief of Chitral. During this passage he became snow-blind. The forcing of the Shandur pass was one of the hardest pieces of work in the whole of the relief of Chitral, and the moral effect produced was invalu- able. For the Chitralis were under the impression that even troops without guns could not cross the pass. Imagine their consternation when a well- equipped force, together with a mountain battery, was at the head of the Mastuj river leading down to Chitral. After we had been hospitably entertained by Lieutenant Stewart, and duly admired his splendid mule battery, we left the next day, July 16, and finally, in the dark that night, camped at the base OUR JOURNEY OUT of Nanga Parbat. During tbe day the ponies that we had hired only came as far as a village named Zaipur, where we paid off our men, and sent them and the ponies back to Bandipur. We did not, however, wish to camp at Zaipur, which lay on the south side of the Rupal torrent, but were anxious to cross to Chorit, a village opposite, and then go on to Tashing. How this was to be accomplished was not at first sight very plain. But the villagers were most willing to help, and those of the Chorit village came down on the further bank, in all about fifty to sixty men. Then bridge-building began ; tons of stones and brush- wood were built out into the raging glacier torrent ; next pine trunks were neatly fixed on the canti- lever system in these piers on both sides, and when the two edifices jutted far enough out into the stream, several thick pine trunks, about fifty feet long, were toppled across, and prevented from being washed down the stream by our Alpine ropes, which were tied to their smaller ends. Several of these trunks were then placed across between the two piers, and after three hours' hard work the bridge was finished. For this magnificent engineering achievement the headmen of the two villages were presented with two rupees. We did not camp at Tashing, but crossed the glacier TO NANGA PARBAT 37 immediately above the village, and in a hollow amongst a grove of willows set up our tents. We had taken twenty-seven days from London travelling continuously, but the weather was per- fect. We were on the threshold of the unknown, and the untrodden nullahs round Nanga Parbat awaited us. CHAPTER III THE RUPAL NULLAH 1 And thus these threatening ranges of dark mountain, which, in nearly all ages of the world, men have looked upon with aversion or with terror, are, in reality, sources of life and happiness far fidler and more beneficent than the bright fruit- fulnesses of the plain.' — Modem Painters. Our cainp in the Rupal nullah was certainly most picturesque, pitched on a slightly sloping bank of grass, strewn with wild-flowers and surrounded by a species of willow-tree which, during the hot midday sunshine, afforded most welcome shade. Firewood could be easily obtained in abundance from the dead stems and branches of the thicket, and water from a babbling stream which descended from the lower slopes of Nanga Parbat, almost within a stone's-throw of our tents. Determined after our week's walk from Bandipur to make the most of our delightful camp, we spent the next day, July 17, in blissful laziness, doing hardly anything. We pretended now and again to busy ourselves with the tents and the baggage. A willow branch which hung in front of our tent door 3S ////?///■///?/// ■ ' //////// THE RUPAL NULLAH 39 would need breaking off, or a rope tightening. But the day was really a holiday, and our most serious occupation was to bask in the warm sunshine and inhale the keen, bracing mountain air fresh from the snow-fields at the head of the Rupal nullah. The sense of absolute freedom, of perfect con- tentment with our present lot, blessed gift of the mountains to their true and faithful devotees, was beginning to steal over us. Languidly we talked about the morrow, our only regret arising from our inability to catch a glimpse of that monarch of the mountains, Nanga Parbat, and the ice-fringed precipices which overhang his southern face. The Rupal is the largest nullah close to Nanga Parbat. It runs eastwards from the peaks by the Thosho pass under the whole southern face of Nanga Parbat, till it joins the valley coming down from the Kamri pass, some eight miles below Tashing. The total length is about twenty-five miles in a straight line, but only those who have wandered in these Himalayan nullahs know how that twenty-five miles can be lengthened. The interminable ups and downs, which with endless repetition confront the traveller, now descending on to glaciers by steep moraine walls, now scrambling over loose stones and debris, or crossing from one side of the nullah to the other, all the variations 40 THE RUPAL NULLAH which a mountain path strews with such pro- digality in the way, set measurement at defiance, and no man may tell the true length of a nullah twenty-five miles long. The inhabitants are wise ; they speak only of a day's journey, and later we easily dropped into their w r ays, miles being hardly ever mentioned. In fact, to show how deceptive measurement by the map may be, when late in August we left the Diamirai nullah with the whole of our camp baggage to reach the next big nullah, the Rakiot, the traverse over two easy passes just below the snow-line took us no less than three days from early in the morning till late at night, though the distance as the crow flies is only ten miles. Tashing, the village, which lay a few miles below us down the valley, is large and prosperous, the peasants owning many flocks and herds. Chickens, eggs, and milk are plentiful, and situated as it is some distance from the Gilgit road, any surplus stock of provisions is not depleted to the same extent as is the case with hamlets in the Astor valley. Sheep, which are small and not easy to obtain at Astor, may be purchased without difficulty at Tashing. Not many years ago Tashing used to be periodically raided by the Chilas tribesmen, who lived on the western slopes of the Nanga Parbat Scale of English Miles Heights in feet Dichil Peak ^ / PhaJrai^kDt• yp A >/ 15,095 16053 JBartkolomenri CcIimT »•** °-"° ii MAP or l mmm pabbax , w . Sol. of E^ijluh MiU. »„„<« »».fr*u,.ft* » 1U* Tayche .fiaaughaJ IMOS / \ "Got I '"" ll.\u Oichil P..l< » \ " 1 j rV / / ~~—~~ Daahkui* y * ililip*r /I. W ^ } p^ \ j£?^ STarier 1 Aatnf . flM*^5" Chongr,, y Peaks 1 : err Sonar P» ) GanaloPt P«°'»'"° »£li f 1 % Tashinj ( i Peak A / '""> „ ^iasiips .) 1 ■ „ s* ^JSKIS ., - Manga Parbat T J £l MonienoPk' '"» -z / / \ r - • 9 ffcioh" is !■" 'ft»4o 1 2 and 7000 feet respectively. To come to more familiar instances, the top of the Matterhorn rises 8000 to 9000 feet above Zermatt, but it is distant some six or seven miles ; whilst the summit of Mont Blanc, which is 12,000 feet higher than Chamounix, is about eight miles off. One route however seemed to offer some hopes of success. By climbing a very steep rock buttress and then traversing an ice ridge, which looked like a very exaggerated copy of the one on the Brenva route up Mont Blanc, a higher snow-field could be gained, from which the Nanga Parbat pass seemed easy of access. But as the pass was not much over 20,000 feet, at least another 6000 feet would have to be ascended, and the rocky ridge which connected it with the summit would tax the climbers' powers to the utmost. An obvious ques- tion also arose as to the possibility of pushing camps with provisions up to 20,000 feet by this route, for we were agreed that our highest camp must at least be somewhere about that altitude. But the evening mists again drifted over the magnificent range opposite and soon hid the upper part of the mountain. They did not finally disap- THE RUPAL NULLAH 49 pear till long after sunset. In the meantime we contented ourselves with planning our expedition for the morrow by the light of the camp fire. The height of the camp by mercurial barometer was 12,150 feet. Before daylight next day we started up the middle of the Chiche glacier, accompanied by two of our Kashmiri servants. Stones without number covered the ice, and our lanterns only sufficed to show how unpleasant our path on the glacier was likely to prove. Soon the cold grey of the morning revealed the Chiche peak straight in front of us, a dim and colourless shadow. Quickly the dawn rose ; we saw the bare precipitous ice slopes on its northern face, scored everywhere by avalanche grooves, and the loneliness of the scene impressed itself upon us. We were entering on a new land, a country without visible trace of man ; probably we were the first who had ever ventured into its recesses. No breeze stirred, and the eastern sun slanting across the peaks threw jagged shadows over the snows ; soon rising higher in the heavens, it topped the ridges and bathed us in its warm glow. At once the glacier wakened into life, and as the stones on the surface were loosened from the frozen grip of night, those which were insecurely perched would ever and again fall down the slippery ice ; THE RUl'AL NULLAH then would we hear a grating noise followed by a deep thud or booming splash. These luckless stones had ' left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,' ami dccj) in the cavernous hollows of each crevasse or below the still green water of the glacier pools they rested, till such time as the crushing heel of the relentless ice should grind them slowly to powder. Grand and solemn in the perfect summer's morn- ing was my introduction to the snow world of the mighty Himalaya. The great hills were around me once more. The peaks, ridges, ice-clad gullies, and stupendous precipices encircling me, sent the blood tingling through my veins ; I was free to climb where I listed, and the whole of a long July day was before me. To those whose paths lie in more civilised and inhabited regions, this enthusiasm about wild and desolate mountains may seem un- warranted, may, perhaps, even savour of an eleva- tion of fancy, a vain belief of private revelation founded neither on reason nor common sense. They probably will agree with Dr. Johnson, who writes of the Western Highlands of Scotland : ' It will readily occur that this uniformity of barrenness can afford little amusement to the traveller ; that it is easy to sit at home and conceive rocks, heaths, and waterfalls, and that these journeys are useless THE RUPAL NULLAH 51 labours which neither impregnate the imagination nor inform the understanding.' The ' saner ' por- tion of humanity, on the whole, are of one mind with the great Doctor, at least if one can judge from their utterances, and the votary of the mountains is often looked upon with pity as one who, being carried away by a kind of frenzy, is hardly respon- sible for his actions. A sport like mountaineering needs no apology. Moreover, it has been so often and so ably defended by writers with ample knowledge of their subject, that nothing remains for me to say to this ' saner portion,' unless perhaps I might be allowed to quote the following oracular remark : ' " But it isn't so, no- how," said Tweedledum. " Contrariwise," continued Tweedledee, "If it was so it might be ; and if it were so it would be ; but as it isn't, it ain't. That 's logic." ' There are, however, those who accuse the moun- taineer of worse things than a foolish and misguided enthusiasm about the waste places of the earth. I have often been told that this ardent desire for wild and rugged scenery is an unhealthy mental appetite, the result of the restless and jaded palate of the age, which must be indulged by new sensa- tions, no matter at what cost. Why cannot the mountaineer rest content with the fertile valleys, 52 THE RUPAL NULLAH the grass-clad ranges, and the noble forests with the streams flashing in the sunlight ? Why cannot lie be satisfied with these simpler and more homely pleasures ? To what end is this eagerness for scenes where desolation and naked Nature reign supreme, where avalanches thunder down the mountain-sides, where man has never lived, nay, never could live ? To a few the knowledge of the hills is given. They can wander free in the great snow world relying on their mountain craft ; and should their imagination not be impregnated nor their under- standing informed, then are their journeys indeed useless. For Nature spreads with lavish hand before them some of the grandest sights upon which human eye can gaze. Delicate, white, ethereal peaks like crystallised clouds send point after point into the deep azure blue sky. Driven snow, marvellous- ly moulded in curving lines by the wind, wreathes the long ridges ; and in the deep crevasses the light plays flashing backwards and forwards from the shining beryl blue sides : sights such as these delight the soul of the mountaineer and tempt him always onward. The ever-varying clouds, forming, dissolving, and again collecting on the mountains, show, here a delicate spire of rock, undiscernible until the white curling vapour shuts out the black background, THE RUPAL NULLAH 53 there a lesser snow-peak tipped by the sunlight floating slowly across it and rimmed by the white border of the morning mists. But it is needless for the lover of the mountains to describe these sights ; the mere stringing together of word-pictures carries little conviction. The sailor who spends his life on the ocean might just as well attempt to awaken enthusiasm for a seafaring life in the minds of inland country-folk, by describing the magnificence of a storm at sea, when the racing- waves drive by the ship and the wind shrieks in the rigging, or by telling them of voyages through summer seas when the fresh breezes and the long rolling billows speed the ship on its homeward way through the ever-changing waters. The subject, however, must not be taken too seriously. No doubt the average individual has most excellent reasons for abstaining from climbing- hills, whilst the mountaineer is, as a rule, more competent to ascend peaks than to explain their attractions ; and to quote from a fragment of a lost ms., 1 probably by Aristotle : ' Now, concerning the love of mountain climbing and the excess and deficiency thereof, as well as the mean which is also a virtue, let this suffice.' But I have wandered far from the Chiche glacier. 1 Cp. page 304. 54 THE RUPAL NULLAH Whether it was owing to our tremendous burst of enthusiasm which reacted on our ambition, or to a lack of muscle necessary for a hard day's work, nevertheless it must be recorded that presently our anxiety to climb the Chiche peak gradually dwindled, and after several tentative suggestions we both eagerly agreed that from a smaller summit just as good a view of Nanga Parbat could be obtained as from one 20,490 feet high. We therefore turned our attention to a spur on our right which ran in a northerly direction from the Chiche peak. As the day wore on even this proved too much for us, and after tediously flounder- ing through soft snow, and cutting steps up a small couloir of ice, a strange and fearsome process to our Kashmiris, we sat down to lunch, at a height of 16,000 feet, and basely gave up any ideas of higher altitudes. We were hopelessly out of condition. Below us on our left lay a most enticing rock ridge, where plenty of fun and excitement could be had, and from its precipitous nature in several places, it would evidently take us the rest of the after- noon to get back to our camp. Clouds persistently interfered with the view of Nanga Parbat, but now and again its summit Avould shine through the drifting vapours, showing precipice above precipice. The eastern face of the THE RUPAL NULLAH 55 Chiclie peak, which we saw edgeways, was superb. Nowhere in the Alps is there anything with which one can compare the savage black corrie which nestled right in the heart of the mountain, showing dark, precipitous walls of rock, with here and there a shelf where isolated patches of snow rested. This corrie forms one of the heads of the Chiche nullah, which would be worth visiting for this solitary and savage view alone. As we descended our rock- ridge we had to put on the rope, and soon experi- enced all the pleasures of the initiated. Our bold and fearless Kashmir servants got more and more alarmed ; and the peculiar positions they occasion- ally thought it necessary to assume made us feel how sweet is the joy of being able to accomplish something that an inexperienced companion regards as impossible. In many places it was only by very great persuasion that they were induced to move. Many were the things they told in Hindustani, which we understood but imperfectly, though we gathered in a general way that no self-respecting Kashmiri would ever attempt to climb down such places, and that even the ibex and markhor would find it an impossibility, a true enough assertion, seeing that many of the small rock faces to be negotiated were practically perpendicular for fifteen or twenty feet. 56 THE RUPAL NULLAH We reached our tents late in the afternoon to find that Hastings had come up from the lower camp. A council of war was then held. Evidently we were not in condition to storm lofty peaks ; and in order to get ourselves into proper training, a walk round to the other side of Nanga Parbat was considered necessary. Hastings as arranged had brought up plenty of provisions, thus enabling the party to brave the snows and uninhabited wilds in front of them. Our immediate movements decided upon, we sat round the camp fire, dined, smoked, talked, and finally, when the stars were shining brightly above the precipice - encircled summit of Nanga Parbat opposite, retired into our sleeping-bags for the night. CHAPTER IV FIRST JOUENEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH AND THE DIAMIRAI PASS ' Lo ! where the pass expands Its stony jaws, the abrupt mountain breaks, And seems, with its accumulated crags, To overhang the world.' Shelley. Early the next morning, before the sun had risen, we started for the Mazeno La, which should lead us into the wild and unknown Chilas country. We soon experienced the kind of walking that after- wards we found to be more often than not the rule. Loose stones of every size and description lay piled between the edge of the glacier and the side of the valley, and it was useless to attempt to walk on the glacier itself, for not only was it buried deep with debris, but was crevassed as well. For some distance we followed the northern or left bank, passing by the snout of a small ice-fall that came down from the main range of Nanga Parbat, and then turned to the right up and over an inter- vening spur, which finally brought us to the level 57 58 JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH of the glacier that lay immediately under the Mazeno La. Across this our path lay in the burning sun of the morning. Before us, about 1500 feet higher up, was the pass ; first the glacier was crossed, and then partly by rocks and partly over soft snow the way led upwards. Within a few hundred feet of the summit (18,000 feet) I experienced a violent attack of mountain sickness, and was hardly able to crawl to the top. This was the only time any of the party suffered at all, and later a slight headache or lassitude was the only symptom that I ever felt, even when at heights up to 20,000 feet. The western face of the pass is much more pre- cipitous than the one we had ascended, but by making use of an easy rock arete we soon got down (2000 feet) to the more level glacier below. The Mazeno La on the western side somewhat resembles the Zinal side of the Triftjoch, but is not quite so difficult. The more active of our coolies, together with servants, were sent on with the instructions to camp on the right-hand side of the glacier as soon as they should come to any bushes out of which a fire could be made, but we were not destined that evening to camp in any comfort. Caught on the glacier by the darkness we were forced to sleep AND THE DIAMIRAI PASS 59 for the night on a small plot of grass on the edge of the side moraine, 13,400 feet, and not till the next morning did we rejoin our coolies about a mile and a half lower down the valley. After we had obtained sufficient to eat we started down beside the glacier, which I have named the Lubar glacier on account of the small shepherds' encampment of that name just below the end of it. On our arrival at Lubar we made our first acquaintance with the Chilas folk, some of whom looked very wild and unkempt, but throughout our expedition we found them to be friendly enough, and never experienced any difficulty with them. Some sour and particularly dirty goats' milk out of huge gourds was their offering to us, and a small sheep, price four rupees, was purchased. Our destination, however, was the Diamirai nullah on the north-west of Nanga Parbat, so we did not stay long, and winding away up the hill- side, leaving the Lubar stream far below us on the left, we first traversed a beautiful wood of birch - trees, and later got out on to the bare hill- side. Only two small ridges separate the Diamirai from the Lubar nullah, but they are only small in com- parison with their bigger neighbours ; consequently we did not reach the Diamirai nullah that day, but camped on the hill-side by a small stream at 60 JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH 1 2,500 feet. A magnificent view to the west showed all the country stretched out before us, a country unt ravel led by any European, whilst skirting the horizon were some splendid snow-peaks that lay near the head of the Swat valley beyond Tangir and Darel. Next day, July 22, before coming to the Diamirai nullah a herd of markhor was seen on the slope not far in front of us, and by midday we camped on the south side of the huge Diamirai glacier that fills up the centre of the nullah, having taken about five hours from our last camp, and having come over some very rough ground. As soon as the baggage was unpacked it was discovered that a pair of steig-eisen had been left at the camp of the night before. One of the goat-herds from Lubar had come with us, and he, being promised a rupee should he bring them back, started at about two o'clock, running up the hill-side like a goat, and by half-past six o'clock was back again with them. Of course, these men having been trained in the hills are very agile, and able to cover long dis- tances, but considering the height there was to climb, and the nature of the ground traversed, his was a fine performance. The camp (12,450 feet) was placed amongst some stunted pine-trees and huge boulders that had rolled down the moraine, the glacier itself AND THE DIAMIRAI PASS 61 being high (200 feet) above the floor of the valley at the side. The view to the westward was much the same as we had seen the night before, only with this difference : it was enclosed now between the two sides of the Diamirai nullah, whilst the glacier fell away down the valley in the foreground, towards the Indus, 10,000 feet below. Beyond, range after range receded to the horizon, the furthest peaks probably being more than one hundred miles distant. There the mountain thieves of Darel, Tangir, and of the country west of Chilas live unmolested. But eastward, at the head of the valley, towered Nanga Parbat, 14,000 feet above us, one mass of ice and snow, with rock ribs protruding here and there, and vast overhanging glaciers ready at any moment to pour down thousands of tons of ice on to the glaciers below. Lit up a brilliant orange by the setting sun, and with the shadows on the lower snows of a pale green, it certainly looked most beautiful, but up its precipitous face a way had to be found, and at first sight it did not look very promising. From our camp we could see the whole face, and Mummery was not long before he pointed out a route by which we hoped later to gain the upper 62 JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH Bnow -fields just underneath the summit, and thence the topmost pinnacle which glistened in the sun- light. The provisions brought over from the Rupal nullah were only meant to last for a few days, so, after the exploration of the western side of Nanga Parbat, it became necessary to arrange for the return. The servants and coolies were sent back by the route we had come, whilst we made up our minds to cross the ridge on the south side of the valley sufficiently high up to bring us down either on to the Mazeno La, or, if we were fortunate, into the head of the Rupal nullah. I went for a walk about four miles up the glacier, but was unable to find a break in the great wall at the head of the Diamirai nullah. On my return I nearly ran into the arms of a huge red bear ; and I must confess that we both were very much frightened. That night, a little before midnight, we started with lanterns, picking our way first through the small rhododendron bushes by the side of the glacier for about a mile, then turning to the right obliquely up the hill-side with the intention of reaching a rock rib which led up to a gap in the great wall that bounded the Diamirai nullah on the south side. For a long time we stumbled up ^ ^1 V^. AND THE DIAMIRAI PASS 63 what seemed an interminable shoot of loose stones, but by the time the early dawn gave sufficient light to enable us to see where we were, a rock arete came into view on our left. 1 Towards this we made our way, finding the climbing was by no means difficult. Occasionally the arete would become too perpendicular for us to follow it, and then we had to cut steps along the top of ice- or snow-slopes that were underneath the rocks on the top of the ridge and chance finding our way back up some gully or subsidiary rib of rocks that might branch out from the main arete. We did not seem to waste much time, but long after the sun had risen and the silent ranges of blue mountains had flushed first with the rosy tints of the rising sun and afterwards glistened with the full blaze of the morning, the pass was still far away above us. These Himalaya are con- structed on a totally different scale from either the Alps or any of the ordinary snow mountains. Still, point after point had to be surmounted. Once in the mist that settled down on us about eleven o'clock, we at last thought the summit was reached, and began to descend an arete that led towards the south. Twenty minutes later, when it cleared, great was our vexation to find the pass 1 See illustration facing page 90. 64 JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH still a long distance above us on our right, and t lint we had unconsciously been descending towards the Diamirai nullah. Upwards again we had to climb, I in; illy finding that the ridge led to the top of a peak on the west of the pass and about a thousand feet higher. In order to save the extra fatigue of climbing to the summit and again descending to the pass, Mummery made a bold effort, striking across the face of the mountain. In some places rocks stuck out from the steep face, in others ice slopes had to be crossed, and towards the middle a great circle of soft snow, with steep ice underneath, gave us an anxious time ; for should the surface snow have avalanched away, it would not have stopped for certainly several thousand feet. By tying two ropes (eighty and sixty feet long) together, w r e spread ourselves out as far ; i part as possible, and very carefully made our way across. It was two in the afternoon before the summit of the pass was reached ; its height was 18,050 feet. We have named it the Diamirai pass. Mummery assured us that he had never been over a more sporting pass, and we were delighted with the varied climbing that we had experienced. But our enthusiasm was soon checked ; below, on the further side, we could see neither the wished-for Kupal nullah nor the Mazeno La. Easy rocks AND THE DIAMIRAI PASS 65 and snow led down to a small glacier, which, flowing southwards, led into another and larger glacier whose trend was to the west. Evidently the larger glacier was the Lubar. The position we were in gradually began to dawn on us. In fourteen hours we had made, as the crow flies, three miles ; of course we had climbed about six thousand feet, but in front of us lay a descent of three thousand feet, and on to the wrong side of the range, therefore at least five miles away round the corner on the left was the Mazeno La, 18,000 feet. We also knew that our camp, and probably our first food, was nearly twenty miles on the other side of the Mazeno, and to make matters worse we had only a few scraps left, a slice of meat, some sticks of chocolate, and about half a dozen biscuits. There was no time to admire the view, also not much view to admire, for the customary midday mists completely hid Nanga Parbat and all the higher peaks. As an heroic effort Mummery suggested that it might save time to climb up from the pass on the south side, over a peak nearly 21,000 feet, in order to drop down on to the Mazeno La ; but we soon decided that it was imprudent so late in the day to attempt it, especially as it would most certainly involve spend- ing the night out at some very high altitude. We JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH therefore rapidly descended the easy slopes on the south Bide of this pass, to which, as I have said, we ve the name of Diamirai. After running down the foot glacier, the Lubar glacier was reached at about half-past five. Here we stopped and rested for about an hour and a half, vainly attempting to get away from a bitterly cold wind that was blowing up from the west. But there was no shelter, so the lesser of two evils was chosen, namely to go on. Slowly we crawled to the foot of the Mazeno La, and about twenty hours after we had started on our expedition, without food, and with only the light of our lanterns, w r e toiled up the slopes that would bring us at last to the top of our second -s, 18,000 feet above sea-level. I shall never forget how tobacco helped me through that night, as I smoked whilst waiting on the summit, in the freezing air and the bright starlight, for Mummery and Hastings ; it almost made me feel that I was enjoying myself; and it stayed the pangs of hunger and soothed away the utter weariness that beset both mind and body. During our wild nocturnal wanderings, first down the Mazeno, and then down the Rupal glacier, where in the dim candle-light and in a semi- conscious condition we slipped, tumbled, and fell, but always with one dominant idea — namely, we AND THE DIAMIRAI PASS 67 must go on !— that pipe continued to help me. What cared I though Hastings growled ? — he does not smoke ! — or whether poor Mummery groaned aloud as he stepped into icy pools of water. So we stumbled frantically forwards, over the vast wilder- ness of stones and ice ; and I remember, as we groped our way onwards, I must have half fallen asleep, for I could not get out of my mind that there was a hut or a small hotel on the top of the Mazeno La, and that for our sins we had been doomed to wander for ever in this dismal and waste land of cold and darkness, whilst rest and food were foolishly left behind. But daylight came at last, and, after the sun was well up in the sky, we finally made our way off that dreadful glacier. We also had vague hopes that perhaps after all we might be able to get something to eat before we reached our camp, miles away near Tashing. For one of our Kashmiri servants had been told to wait at the foot of the glacier — a week if necessary — till we turned up. We were quite uncertain whether he would follow our instructions, but at seven o'clock Hastings and I found him camped under a huge rock. At once some provisions and a kettleful of hot tea were sent back to Mummery, who was resting some miles up the valley. At half-past ten I left Hastings 68 JOURNEY TO DI AM IRA I NULLAH and Mummery asleep amongst the flowers in the shade under the rock, and set off alone for the lower camp, if possible to hurry up some ponies to fetch them down the valley. Early in the after- noon I met them with two of the Rupal coolies : they had crossed the Nanga Parbat glacier, no easy thing to do, but, the steep face of dried mud and boulders about thirty feet high leading off the glacier, they could not get up. Engineering opera- tions at once became necessary ; with my ice-axe I cut large footsteps diagonally upwards across this steep face. But the first pony was afraid. After some talking, one of the men led up a wise- looking, grey pony to the bottom, and, talking to it, showed it the staircase. It then climbed up, feeling each step carefully with its forelegs before venturing on to it, These unshod mountain-horses are certainly extremely clever on such kind of ground. Several years later, when travelling in the Canadian Rocky Mountains with a whole pack of Canadian ponies, a place not one-quarter as difficult entirely stopped the whole outfit, although for making their way through fallen timber and across dangerous streams these Canadian ponies are unequalled. Between five and six that evening I arrived at our Tashing camp and found Bruce there. He AND THE DIAMIRAI PASS 69 had obtained a month's leave, bringing with him two Gurkhas — Ragobir and Goman Singh. Over our dinner we forgot the weary tramping of the last forty hours, celebrating the occasion by drinking all the bottles of Bass's pale ale — a priceless treasure in these parts — that we had brought from Kashmir. Then afterwards, when we turned into our sleeping-bags before the roaring camp-fire, and the twilight slowly passed into the azure night, and ovei'head the glistening stars were blazing in the clear sky, a worthy ceiling to this mountain land, it was agreed unanimously that it was worth coming many thousand miles to enjoy climbing in the Himalaya, and that those who lived at home ingloriously at their ease knew not the joys that were to be found amidst the ice and snows of the greatest of mountain ranges. Never would they enjoy the keen air that sweeps across the snow-clad heights, never would they wander homeless and supperless over the vile wastes which surround the Mazeno La for the best part of two nights and two days ; and, last but not least, never would such joys as the marvellous contentment born of a good dinner, after incipient starvation, nor the delicious rest that comes as the reward after excessive fatigue — never would joys such as these be theirs. CHAPTER V SECOND JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH AND ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET ' And this, the naked countenance of earth, On which I gaze, even these primaeval mountains, Power dwells apart iu their tranquillity, Remote, serene, and inaccessible.' Shelley. Next day Bruce and I with Ragobir and Goman Singh went for an excursion up the Tashing glacier, in order that the two Gurkhas might have some experience in ice-work and step-cutting. It was great fun, and although I was perfectly unable to understand any of their conversation, Ragobir and Goman Singh were laughing, chattering, and play- ing the whole time like two children. On July 27 the same party, with the addition of Mummery, started for a ridge which runs south- east towards Tashing from the peak marked 22,360 feet, which we named Chongra peak, as it is at the head of the valley of that name above Astor. We crossed the Tashing glacier, and camped at 15,000 feet by some rocks. Next day was spent in a 70 ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET 71 ridge-wander. Our intention was to climb a rock peak overlooking the Chongra nullah ; but lazi- ness was in the air, the day was hot, and the ridge endless. Finally a halt was called somewhat short of the peak that we had intended to climb, and for a long time we basked in the sun, smoked, ate our lunch, and enjoyed the superb view of the precipices of Nanga Parbat on the west and of the Karakoram range far away to the northward. Out of the masses of snow-clad giants in the remote distance to the north-east, one rose obviously higher than all its neighbours ; in shape it resembled the view of K 2 as seen from Turmik. 1 Since then, how- ever, Bruce has told me that the mountain that was seen from Turmik was probably the Mustagh tower. These two peaks would be about one hundred miles away, and in that clear atmosphere should be per- fectly visible from our position (about 17,000 feet), for we were high enough to see over the range on the east of the Astor valley. We also saw across the Indus and up the Shigar valleys, and further 1 la Drew's Jummoo and Kashmir Territories, p. 370, also Alpine Club Journal, vol. xvii. p. 38, there is a sketch showing a mountain supposed to be K 2 . Drew also has drawn K 2 in No. 3 Isometric view of the moun- tains on the north-east of the Indus river. When Drew made these sketches the existence of the Mustagh tower, which rivals K 2 in height, was unknown ; moreover both from Turmik, and also from near Gilgit where the Isometric view No. 3 was taken, the Mustagh tower would be almost exactly in front of K 2 . 72 JOURNEY TO DIAM1RAI NULLAH still the eye ^aa directed straight up the Baltoro with no high peaks or ranges to intercept its view. Very much nearer and more to the north just on the other side of the Astor nullah a really magnificent double-headed peak, the Dichil, 1 sends up a series of perfectly impossible precipices. Its height on the map is 19,490 feet, but I am positive this measurement must be wrong. Much later, whilst returning from the Kakiot nullah to Dashkin, I was at a point 16,000 feet on the ridge just opposite across the Astor valley, and seen from there it apparently towered at least 5000 feet above me. In the Dichil nullah at its foot the valley cannot be more than 10,000 feet, and the view of it from this nullah must far surpass that of Ushba in grandeur. During the day a curious haze hung over some of the precipices at the head of the Tashing glacier just opposite to us, due to perpetual avalanches of stones which were partly falling, partly sliding, down the steep slopes. We returned to camp by a different route. A steep rock ridge led straight down from the peak we were on to the Tashing glacier below. On this ridge we had some delightful climbing, ultimately 1 There ia a drawing of this peak on page 119 of Sir W. M. Conway's Climbinj in tht Himalaya. AND ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET 73 reaching the upper pasturages lying on the left bank of the glacier. It was a long tramp from there home, but just as it became dark we marched into our camp beneath the grove of willows. The 29th was spent preparing for our start for the Diamirai nullah, for Mummery had quite given up all idea of attempting to climb the thousands of feet of almost perpendicular wall that ran the whole way along the south face of Nanga Parbat. The next day we started with a perfect caravan of coolies. Our intention was to send Goman Singh and our servants . together with all the coolies and baggage, over the Mazeno La by the route we had first taken, whilst we ourselves with Ragobir should try to cross directly from the head of the Rupal nullah to the head of the Diamirai nullah. This time we hoped to have better luck than on our return over the Diamirai pass. But it was with some misgiving that I started, for I alone in my walk a week before up the Diamirai glacier had seen the head of that nullah, and although I did not doubt that we might reach the head of some pass from the southern side, I could not remember any place where it would be possible for us to descend on the northern side, and under any conditions our pass would be at least 20,000 feet, probably more, for the route lay directly over 1\- JOURNEY TO DIAMIRA1 NULLAH the spur which leads westward from the summit of Manga Parbat to the Mazeno La. That night we camped about four to rive miles short of the Mazeno La at a height of 13,000 feet. In the dark we started next morning up excessively steep and broken moraine by the side of an ice-fall, thence we turned on to the steep glacier, and after some difficulty got on to the upper glacier, which came down from the north-east. After following this for some distance we turned to our left up a wide couloir, and partly on rocks and partly on snow slowly climbed upwards. By three in the after- noon Bruce, who was not in such good condition as we were, and was suffering from suppressed mumps (although neither he nor we knew it at the time), began to feel tired, but under the stimula- tion produced by some citrate of caffeine lozenges he went on again bravely. At last we came out on to the ridge at the head of the couloir, and climbed some few hundred feet up the arete, which seemed to lead to the very summit of the peak marked 21,442 feet on the map. But the time was five o'clock in the afternoon. The height by mercurial barometer was 20,150 feet. We had climbed over 7000 feet ; but beyond feeling very tired, which was natural, we were hardly affected by the rare- fied air. Here we stopped for some short time AND ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET 75 and had our evening meal. Bruce and I came to the conclusion that, as we must certainly spend the night out somewhere, a less exalted position was preferable. We selected a new route, which would take us down to the foot of the Mazeno La, Ragobir coming with us. Mummery and Hastings would not hear of beating a retreat thus early, so they arranged to go on, and should they find the ridge become too difficult further up, they would return and follow us down, but they hoped for a full moon and the possibility of climbing on during the night. Bruce and I did not make much progress, for our ridge soon became both narrower and more precipi- tous ; but finally, as the sun was setting, we found a crack running through the arete into which a flat stone had got jammed just large enough for three people to sit on. Here we made up our minds to stop for the night. Roughly we were 19,000 feet, or 1000 feet higher than the Mazeno La, and about two to three miles to the eastward of it. A stone thrown out on either side of our small perch would have fallen many hundreds of feet before hitting anything, so we did not take off the rope, but huddled together as best we could to keep warm. I could write a very long description of the wonderful orange sunset we saw beyond the Mazeno, how the light faded out of the sky, and the stars 7(; JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH c;iine out one by one as the sunset disappeared ; hew we tried in vain to get into positions such that the freezing wind would not penetrate our clothes, how Bruce and Ragobir groaned, and how we suffered — but I will refrain. Let any one who may be curious on the subject of a night out on a lock ridge at 19,000 feet try it ; but he must place himself in such a position that, twist and turn as he may, he still encounters the cold, jagged rocks with every part of his body, and though he shelter himself ever so wisely, he must feel the wind steadily blowing beneath his shirt. Late in the night we heard noises on the ridge above us. It was Mummery and Hastings return- ing. But, although they were within speaking distance of Bruce and myself, and I had lit a lantern to show them where we were, they could not reach us, and finally had to select the least uncomfortable place they could. With leaden feet the night paced tardily on, and brilliant stars and moon that had at first shone from the zenith gradu- ally sank towards the west, but how slowly ! — ' Yon lily-woven cradle of the hours Hath floated half her shining voyage, nor yet Is hy the current of the morn opposed.' Would the morning never come, and with it the warm sunshine? Daylight crept up the sky, however, at AND ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET 77 last, and as soon as they could, Mummery and Hast- ings joined us. After we left them, they had climbed some considerable distance further, but as the mists did not lift at sundown and the other side of the range was unknown, they perforce had to return, having nearly reached the summit of the mountain and a height of 21,000 feet. It was a long time before we got down on to the Mazeno glacier, but somewhere about ten o'clock we arrived on the flat glacier. Here the party, overcome by the warmth of the sunshine and a great drowsiness, went to sleep on some of the flat slabs of stone that lay scattered on the ice. Personally, nothing would have given me more pleasure than to have followed the example of the rest, but visions of another night out on the Lubar glacier troubled me. Moreover, we had nothing whatever to eat, the night before having seen the last of our provisions. Ragobir and I therefore with weary feet started to cross the Mazeno La. Very slowly we toiled and toiled upwards through the already softened snow ; but long before we reached the summit, more than once Ragobir had lain down on the ground exhausted. I found out later that he had eaten nothing whatever the day before. Ultimately we got to the top and rested awhile. Our mission was to get to Lubar, and from 78 JOURNEY TO DTAMIRAI NULLAH there send back up the glacier milk and meat to the remainder of the expedition. It was already mid- day, and here was 1 with a Gurkha who could hardly crawl, and the rest of the party perhaps in a worse condition far behind. So after a short . I started down from the pass on the west side, soon leaving llagobir behind. Then I waited for him. Repeating these tactics he was enticed on- wards again, until crossing an ice-couloir rendered dangerous through falling stones, I walked out on to the level glacier at the bottom to await him. Very slowly he crawled down, and when in the centre of the couloir, although I screamed to him to hurry, he was nearly hit by a great stone weighing half a hundredweight that had come from two or three thousand feet above. Although it only missed him by a few feet, he never changed his pace ; and when at last he reached me, seated on a stone, he dropped full length on the ice, absolutely refusing to move, and groaning. He had eaten nothing for the last forty hours. My position was becoming serious. I could not leave the Gurkha, Lubar was miles away down the glacier, and some of the rest of the party might be in the same condition as llagobir. I could think of nothing except to smoke my pipe and wait for something to happen. Half an hour passed, then an AND ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET 79 Lour ; and then, far up on the summit of the Mazeno La a black dot appeared, and shortly afterwards two more. So I waited, and at last the whole party was reunited. Bruce managed to revive Ragobir, who had had over two hours' rest, and we all set off as fast as we could for the shepherds' huts at Lubar. As the sun was setting we arrived there, very weary, but buoyed up with the expectation of something to eat. I shall never forget the sight that greeted my eyes when Mummery and I, the last of the party, walked into the small enclosure of stones where the goats and sheep were collected. Bruce was seated on the small wall in his shirt- sleeves, superintending the slaughter of one of the sheep. And, horrible to relate, in less than half an hour after we entered Lubar we were all ravenously devouring pieces of sheep's liver only half cooked on the ends of sticks. The dirty, sour goats' milk, too, was delicious, and as far as I can recollect, each of us drank consider- ably over a gallon that evening, to wash down the fragments of toasted sheep and chappatties that we made from some flour that had providentially remained behind our caravan with a sick coolie. Very soon we got into a somewhat comatose con- dition, and there was some sort of arrangement made, that should any one wake in the night he BO .JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH should look after the fire. But next morning when I awoke the fire was out and I was covered with hoarfrost. We had all fallen asleep almost in the positions in which we sat in front of the fire. I am afraid I must apologise for this second description of the delights of feeding after a pro- longed fast. But few people have any conception of what it feels like to be really starving and worked till one longs to drop down anywhere — even on snow or ice. Hunger, exposure, and exhaustion are hard taskmasters, and the relief brought by rest, comfort, and plenty of food is a pleasure never to be forgotten. It is certainly one of the keenest enjoyments I have ever experienced. Next morning we started for the Diamirai camp, taking with us the coolie and the precious flour. We preferred to strike out a new route, keeping higher up the mountain-side and more to the right. Before long we met some of our Kashmir servants who had come back from the Diamirai to look for us, and, as was their most excellent custom, brought with them as many edibles as they could. These of course were soon finished. We left them to return bv the ordinary route to the camp, whilst we followed up the Butesharon glacier in a south-easterly direc- tion, reaching at its head a col about 17,000 feet. From this pass, on that perfectly clear afternoon, AND ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET 81 an unsurpassed panorama was spread out before us. The Indus valley lay 14,000 feet beneath us. Be- yond stretched that almost unknown land below Chilas. A hundred miles away were the snow peaks in the Swat country, marked on the map as 18,563 feet and 19,395 feet high, standing out distinct against the sky, whilst much further still, a little more to the right, rose a vast snow peak nearly flat topped, or at least a ridge of peaks, several thousand feet higher than any others. It was probably Tirach Mir above Chitral, 25,426 feet and 24,343 feet high. From the summit of the Butesharon pass we descended almost straight to the camp, which had been pitched in the old spot, where we had been ten days before. During the next two days, August 3 and 4, we stopped in camp, and on the 5th Bruce left us, going back to Abbottabad via the Mazeno La, the Kamri, and Kashmir. As we heard afterwards, it was anything but a pleasant journey, for, probably owing to the exposure during that night on Nanga Parbat, his complaint had been aggravated, and the glands of his neck and face had become so swollen, that when he was met by a friend on the Kamri he was unrecognisable, and for many months after- wards was unable to wear a collar. The day that Bruce left, Mummery and I with S2 JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH the Gurkhas started to explore the upper end of the Diamirai glacier. We camped at the head of the valley on the last grass on the northern side. Mummery and Ragobir started at midnight for the western face of Nanga Parbat. During the day they managed to reach the top of the second rib of rocks that lie directly under the summit, a height of about 17,000 to 18,000 feet. In the mean- time I went to look at the Diama glacier between the Ganalo peak, 21,650 feet, and Nanga Parbat, taking with me Goman Singh and our Kashmir shikari. We climbed up the ridge that comes down from the Ganalo peak to about 17,000 feet, but un- fortunately the day was cloudy, so I was unable satisfactorily to see the whole of the Diama valley, and ascertain what chances we should have if we were to attack Nanga Parbat from that side. How- ever, on returning in the afternoon, I met Mummery on the glacier. He was delighted with his explora- tion, for there was, he said, magnificent climbing, and he had found a place on the top of the second rib of rock where a tent might be pitched. From July 13, the day we left the Kishnganga valley, it had been gloriously fine ; but next day, August 7, the weather broke with heavy rain. Of course all our energies now were concentrated on the ascent of Nanga Parbat. Mummery decided AND ASCENT TO 21,000 FEET 83 that we should push provisions and supplies up the route that he and Ragobir had prospected ; and he was confident that once beyond the rock ribs and on the upper snow-fields with some provisions and a silk tent, it would be very hard luck indeed should we be driven back before we reached the summit. During August 8 and 9, Mummery, Ragobir, Lor Khan (a Chilas shikari, who had come up from Gashut in the Bunar valley, and insisted on stopping with us), and I spent the time in carrying a waterproof bag of provisions and some odds and ends up the second rib of rock to a height of 17,150 feet. Here we left it in a safe place on the rocks. We also had considerable quantities of fuel taken up by coolies, to a camp 15,000 feet, at the bottom of the rocks under Nanga Parbat. Mummery was not wrong when he said it was magnificent climbing. The only climbing in the Alps I can compare it to is that on the Chamounix Aiguilles. In many places it was similar to that on the west side of the Aiguille du Plan from the Pelerin glacier. Between the first and second ribs of rock the glacier was broken up into the wildest confusion, and it was only by passing a somewhat nasty couloir, down which occasional ice avalanches came, that the rocks of the second rib could be reached ; thence to 84 JOURNEY TO DIAM1RAT NULLAH the top of the rib was difficult rock climbing over it slabs and towers of rock set at a very steep le. I was extremely surprised that Lor Khan would go, but he did not seem in the least fright- ened, and with a little help from the rope climbed splendidly. As we returned that night to our camp the rains descended, and we arrived wet through ; the weather was getting worse, and no serious attempt could be made for the present on Nanga Parbat. i CHAPTER VI ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK ' Nothing that is mountainous is alien to us ; we are addicted t all high places from Gaurisankar to Primrose Hill, wherever man has not forked out Nature. No doubt we find a particular fascination in the greatest and boldest inequalities of the earth's surface and the strange scenery of the ice and snow world ; but we are attracted by any inequality, so long as it has not a railroad station or a restaurant on the top of it.' Douglas Fp.eshfield. About this time we were beginning to run short of provisions, though a month earlier we had ordered all sorts of luxuries — jams, Kashmir wine, and so forth — from Srinagar, and had heard that they had been despatched to Bandipur, to be for- warded thence by the Government Commissariat Department. All inquiries were, however, fruit- less, but Bruce had promised that should he, on his way down country to Abbottabad, discover their whereabouts he would hurry them on. Eventually he found them reposing at Bandipur, so he at once packed them on ponies and sent them to our camp in the Rupal nullah, knowing 86 ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK how the Commissariat Department had to strain every nerve to get the requisite grain supplies for the troops over the passes to Gilgit before the bad weather set in and blocked the Burzil, and that private baggage and supplies might wait indefin- itely till such time as it pleased the Department to find ponies to convey them to their destination. Personally we did not wish to leave the Diamirai nullah, but at the same time it was absolutely necessary that somehow 7 we should replenish our vanishing stock of food. Already two of our Kashmir servants had been sent down into the Bunar district to bring up whatever they w r ere able to collect, but we could not depend on the Chilas nullahs to yield us all we might want. This ((iiestion of provisioning our camp caused perpetual worry. Unless one has trustworthy servants, every ten days or so one of the party has to start off to the nearest village for supplies. This may take a week or more, and as the period during which the big mountains are in a condition to climb is at the best but very limited, much valu- able time will be wasted. Bruce told me that whilst he was with Sir W. M. Conway, in the Karakorams, all the catering was left to Rahim Ali, his servant. If every fort- night during their stay at the head of the Baltoro ASCENT OF THE DIAM1RAI PEAK 87 glacier they had been forced, as we were, person- ally to forage and seek for dilatory servants, the climbing on Pioneer peak would have progressed but slowly. A piece of advice which cannot be too strongly urged upon those who go to the Himalaya is to get good servants at any cost, not to grudge the time spent, for it will be regained afterwards a hundredfold. The cook or khan- sammah ought to be the chief servant in the camp. He ought to be responsible for everything : it is his business to provide food, and a good cook who feeds one well, and takes the responsibility of the endless small details of management and supply off one's shoulders is worth five times the wages which are usually given. Accordingly, after some consultation, Hastings generously agreed to sacrifice himself and trudge back to our camp in the Rupal nullah and thence to Astor, not only with the hope of bringing back with him all the luxuries we had weeks before ordered from Srinagar, but also with the intention of procuring sheep, flour, rice, and tea from Astor. At the same time he hoped to shorten to a great extent the journey to the Mazeno by making a new and direct pass over into the Lubar nullah immediately south of our camp. In the mean- time Mummery and 1 were to stay behind in the ss A.SOENT OF THE DIAMIRAI TEAK Diamirai nullah and push provisions up the face of Nanga Parbat as fast as we could. .lust south of our camp rose a snow peak, about I'.'.OOO feet, which we have called the Diamirai peak. On July '24, in crossing the pass from the Diamirai over to the Lubar glacier, we had left it on our right. It is not on the main ridge of Nanga Parbat, but on a side spur running to the westward. Camped as we were at its very foot, and looking on it as but a single day's climb, wo determined to try to ascend it, whilst we waited for the snow to clear off the rocks on Nanga Parbat. By this time we had learned that the ascent of any peak 20,000 feet high was a laborious undertaking. At first we had talked about the 'twenty thousanders ' somewhat con- temptuously, and not without reason, for our hopes were fixed on Nanga Parbat, 26,629 feet ; surely if a mountain of that height were possible, those whose summits were 7000 feet lower ought to be simplicity itself. In fact, we imagined that, as far as difficulty was concerned, they should stand somewhat in the same proportion to each other as an ascent of Mont Blanc to a climb up the Brevent from Chamounix during the springtime before all the snow has meltedj Unfortunately they were riot quite so easy as ^ ^ i S vS ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 89 we should have liked ; not only did they involve an ascent from the camp of 7000 to 8000 feet, but also a considerable amount of the climbing under a pressure of about half an atmosphere. Then the interminable ice slopes, which in the Nanga Parbat district are very much more common than in the Alps, meant many hours of step-cutting, and the softened state of the snow directly after the sun had shone on it added considerably to our labour. Besides these drawbacks, which render the ascent of a mountain 20,000 feet high not altogether easy, the utter confusion and wearisome monotony of the stony and rugged hill-sides between the valley and the snow-line must not be forgotten. On August the 11th, we all started early in the morning by lantern light, taking with us Ragobir and Lor Khan (as well as Goman Singh and two coolies who were to accompany Hastings as far as Astor). We first climbed up a small moraine coming steeply down the side of the main valley almost to our camp from the glacier on the north-west side of the Diamirai peak, and in about an hour and a half came to the glacier itself. Here Hastings parted company with us, and, cross- ing a pass (which he has named Goman Singh pass), to the westward of the Diamirai peak, got safely over down to the Lubar glacier, whence 90 ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK liv wav of the Mazeno pass he came to our camp in the Rupal nullah. Mummery and I, accom- panied by Ragobir and Lor Khan, turning slightly to the left, made for a gully leading higher up to a snow ridge which ran upwards nearly to the summit of the peak. At the foot of the gully we were confronted by a small bergschrund. This we easily turned, and began scrambling up the rocks on our left hand. Gradually the grey dawn melted into a Hima- layan sunrise. Far away over the lower ridges we could see — ' The ever-silent spaces of the east Far folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn. 5 Above there was very little colour, pale greens verging into oranges and yellows, whilst below, in the shadows of the valleys, cold, dark steel blues, clear and deep, were the predominating shades. For a long while we watched the orange sunlight, catching first one part of Nanga Parbat and then another, as slowly the patches widened and spread creeping always down the mountain- side. Away to the north, on the opposite side of the Diamirai nullah, two minor rock peaks on the ridge were tipped with the rays of the morning son. At the height we had already gained there was visible over the intervening ridge all the Is 1 8 s 8 . s (5 UP AM {m. VIEW OF THE DIAMIRAI PE The dotted lines show our various routes. ■3 *•" M 3 .5 * 2 o Butesharon Pass. *OM THE RED PASS. ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 91 country above Gor on the further side of the Indus, while to the south of Gilgit stretched away mile after mile of mountain ranges. But by far the most striking sight was the enormous snow range beyond Gilgit and Yasin, the extreme western end of the Mustagh or Karakoram range. Rakipushi we could not see ; it was just cut off by the western spur of the Ganalo peak, but from a point just west of the Kilik pass almost to the mountains above Chitral, snow summit after snow summit rose up into the heavens clear cut and distinct in the wonderfully translucent air. With this marvellous view nothing interfered, as the average height of the peaks on this mighty barrier which divides English from Russian terri- tory cannot be much less than 23,000 feet, and that of the hills which lay between us and these peaks was not more than 16,000 feet. High above the great snow range on the horizon, a long-drawn cloud floated like a grey bar of silver, but it did not prevent the rays of the rising sun from covering with their golden light the whole of the distant and lonely snow world, as yet untrodden by the foot of man. As usual, a perfect stillness and calm in the morning air seemed to herald a fine day, but already we had learned to mistrust these signs : — A.SCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI l'FJAK 1 Full many a glorious morning have I secne, Flatter the mountaino tops with sover;tino eie, Anon permit tho basest cloudes to rid ) With ongly rack on his celestiall face.' days were there during our stay in the Nanga Parbat region that were clear after 10 a.m., ' this morning was no exception. The sun had risen above Nanga Parbat, and we knew well how soon the snow would soften under its powerful rays — half an hour usually sufficing under these conditions to thaw r through the frozen outer crust. New snow, too, had fallen in con- siderable quantities, so we did not want to waste any of the valuable early hours on the lower slopes. Fortunately about this time the morning mists began to gather as usual, and not only prevented the snow from melting, but protected us from the fearful glare which would have been our fate on a perfectly cloudless day. Very narrow and steep w r as the snow ridge which stretched up the mountain -side above us, but we knew, although we could not see from where we were, that it led almost to the summit. The average angle of the arete was a little over 40 degrees. At first Mummery was easily able to nick out steps with the axe, but soon the crust began to give way here and there, leaving us to struggle often knee-deep. On our ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 93 right the angle was not very steep, but on the left of the ridge was a most forbidding ice slope. Every now and then we would make rapid progress, finding a thinner coating of snow upon the ice, with but one or two small crevasses to be crossed. Away on our left was an excellent rock ridge, but we could not reach it without cutting across the steep ice-slope. However, our are"te, some distance further up, seemed to join the rock ridge, so we pushed on quickly, in the hope that above we should be rewarded by finding easy rocks to climb. Before we reached this point a difficult and steep piece on the ar§te had to be surmounted. If we could have traversed off to the right it would have been easier, but the snow was in a most unstable condition ; small zigzags to the right and then back again on to the ridge were resorted to, and ultimately we succeeded in getting up this some- what nasty place. Eapid progress was then made, but we found, much to our disappointment, that the rock ridge ended where it joined the ar6te, and our hopes of an easy rock climb vanished. Finally we arrived just under the first summit of our mountain. Here the same difficulty we had experienced down below again presented itself, but in a worse form. The ar&te was much steeper, sloping probably at an angle of about 55 to 60 'M ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAl PEAK greea Mummery tried the same tactics as before, but soon had to confess that he dared not trust the snow any further, for it was thoroughly sodden upon the surface of the ice, and we might bring the whole face otf at any moment. On the arete itself the snow, where it had drifted and been frozen, lay curiously deep, so that even at the thinnest point it did not allow of steps being cut in the ice below. Our only chance, therefore, was to try the ice slope on the left of the arete. Mummery led, cutting the steps diagonally across the slope, where a thin coating of snow lay some two or three inches deep over the hard ice underneath. As he moved slowly upwards, I came next on the rope, and, to keep my hands employed, passed the time in cutting the steps deeper into the ice. The position was a sensational one — we were crossing the steepest ice slope of any great size I had ever been on ; below us it shot straight down some 2000 feet without a break, till the angle became less in a small snow basin. The next objects that met the eye were the stone slopes far below in the valley, and unconsciously I began to picture to myself the duration and th«' result of an involuntary glissade on such a mountain-side. ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 95 Lor Khan, who came behind me on the rope, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely ; of course he had never been in such a position before, but these Chilas tribesmen are famous fellows. What Swiss peasant, whilst making his first trial of the big snow peaks and the ice, would have dared to follow in such a place, and that, too, with only skins soaked through by the melting snow wrapped round his feet ? Lor Khan never hesi- tated for a moment ; when I turned and pointed downwards he only grinned, and looked as if he were in the habit of walking on ice slopes every day of his life. We were soon all in a line across this ice face, and whilst I was cutting one of Mummery's steps deeper to make it safer for our Chilas shikari, I noticed that the rope was hang- ing down in a great loop between Lor Khan and myself. At once I cried out to him not to move again till it was absolutely tight between us, and always to keep it so for the future. In the East we found that people were accustomed to obey instantly without asking questions. What the sahib said was law, at least so long as the sahib was there himself to enforce obedience. Conse- quently as I moved onward the rope soon became taut, and fortunately remained in that condition. Shortly after this Mummery turned upwards and ASCKNY OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK Blightly bo bia right, cutting nearly straight up the face, owing to some bad snow which barred our way. -fust as I began the ascent of this heard a startled exclamation below. instinctively I struck the pick of my axe d< into the ice, and at the same moment the whole of the weiffht of the unfortunate Lor Khan came on Ragobir and on me with the full force of a drop of some five to six feet. He had slipped out of one of the steps, and hung with his face to the glistening ice, whilst under him the thin coating of snow peeled oft 1 the face of the slope in great and ever- widening misses, gathering in volume as it plunged head- long down the mountain-side, finally to disappear over the cliffs thousands of feet below. For the time being I was fascinated by the descending avalanche, my whole mind being occupied with hut this one thought, that if Lor Khan began to struggle and jerk at the rope I should without a doubt be pulled out of my steps. My fears proved groundless. Although Lor Khan had lost his foot- ing he never lost either his head or his axe, and was just able to reach with his hand one of the steps out of which he had fallen. After Mummery had made himself quite firm above me I found myself, with the help of Ragobir, who was last on the rope, just able to haul up our Chilas shikari ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 97 to a step which he had manfully cut for himself. It was, however, a very unpleasant experience ; if the fall had been ten feet instead of six, I should never have been able to have borne the strain, and Lor Khan would have fallen considerably more than that if he had not been opportunely warned that he must keep the rope tight between himself and me. Half an hour later we got off our ice slope and stepped almost on to the first summit. All our difficulties were over. After ploughing through some soft snow, at about half-past eleven o'clock we were seated on the true top of our peak, the height of which by the barometer turned out to be 19,000 feet. We had climbed between 6000 and 7000 feet, and Mummery had led the whole way. The last 3000 feet had been very severe, for at first most of the steps had to be laboriously broken, and later we had to win our way by the use of the axe. But Mummery was perfectly fresh and could have gone on for hours, the diminished pressure (fifteen inches of mercury) having apparently no effect on him ; neither was Ragobir any the worse for his climb ; Lor Khan and I had slight headaches, but other- wise were quite fit for more. As we sat on the top enveloped in mist, Mummery and I debated its A.SCENT OF THE DIAMIRA1 PEAK afresh the old question, How should we feel if we v\rv ascended to 26,000 feet? Mummery reasoned thai it would chiefly depend on our state of training at the time. Had I not been dreadfully ill at 18,000 feet crossing the Mazeno La, whilst here we wore all right at 19,000 feet? Had we not •nded our last 3000 feet with hardly a rest and at exactly the same pace as if we had been climbing in the Alps ? As it always takes two to argue, I perforce had to try my best as the opposition. At once I discovered that my head- ache was by no means a negligible quantity, and was therefore an excellent test for abnormal altitudes. Probably also mountain-sickness was a disease which linked in the higher mountains and was ready at any moment to rush on and seize its prey. Luckily for us the particular bacillus was not just then in the surrounding atmosphere, consequently we had not been inoculated, yet perhaps should we on some future occasion go to 21,000 to 22,000 feet, we might be suddenly overwhelmed. Then I quoted an article I had read somewhere about paralysis and derangement of nerve-centres in the spinal column being the fate of all who insist on energetic action when the barometer stands at thirteen inches. It was no good, Mummery only laughed at me ; and at this moment the mist clear- ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 99 ing for a short space to the southward, we were soon far more interested with the view of the Thosho and Rupal peaks. The summit we were on fell away on the south directly under our feet in a series of rock precipices. We started on our homeward journey at about one o'clock without catching a single glimpse of Nanga Parbat. The descent of the steep ice slopes of our upward route was far too dangerous to attempt, so we decided on a rock ridge to the westward which we hoped would lead us down on the pass that Hastings had crossed earlier in the day. Ragobir was sent to the front. He led us down the most precipitous places with tremendous rapidity and immense enjoyment. It was all 'good' according to him, and his cheery face down below made me feel that there could be no difficulty, till I found myself hanging down a slab of rock with but the barest of handholds, or came to a bulging- mass of ice overhanging a steep gully, which insisted on protruding into the middle of my stomach, with direful result to my state of equilibrium. At one place where the ridge was a narrow knife edge, with precipices on both sides, we had a splendid piece of climbing. A sharp descent of about a hundred feet occurred on the arete which loo ASCENT OF THE DIAMIllAI PEAK Beemed at first Bight impossible. llagobir tried first on the right hand, but, owing to the smoothness of the rock slabs and the absence of all handholds, w.is unable to get down further than twenty feet or so. Whilst I was dangling the Gurkha on the end of the rope, Mummery discovered what he con- sidered to be a possible solution of the difficulty. Etagobir was to climb about twenty-five feet down a small open chimney on the perpendicular south face of the ridge ; he then would be on the top of a narrow flake of rock which was laid against the mountain-side in the same manner as those on the traverse of the Aiguille de Grepon. We could easily hold him from above whilst he edged sideways along this narrow way. After a short time he called out that it was all right, and I let down Lor Khan next. When I myself got on to the traverse I was very much impressed, not that it was very difficult, thanks to the splendid handholds, but the face was so perpendicular that without them one could hardly have stood on the narrow top of the slab without falling outwards. A loose stone when thrown out about twenty feet pitched on some snow at least five hundred feet below. I found Ragobir and Lor Khan on a small niche on the ridge which divided the arete into two and ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 101 at the top of an incipient ice gully. With- -consider able difficulty I managed to squeeze on to the small platform of rock and direct operations. Ragobir cut his way down to the next place where he could rest ; and, after carefully hitching the rope as safely as I could, Mummery was called on to follow. It was just the kind of place he enjoyed, but it needed some one with iron nerves to descend the somewhat difficult chimney and then edge along the traverse without a steadying-rope from above. After the descent of the ice gully the climbing proved much easier. Rapid progress was made in spite of an uncertainty as to where we were going, for everything was hidden by the afternoon mists. Our route kept slowly bending away to the south- west, and as Hastings's pass lay directly to the west, we hoped that another bend to the north- west would put us straight again. We could not leave the ridge and traverse to our right, so perforce had to keep on descending, and when at last the mists did rise for a short time, we found our fears amply confirmed. The pass lay about a thousand feet above on our right, and, what was still more exasperating, the shortest route to it necessitated a still further descent of at least five hundred feet, followed by a traverse underneath the overhanging end of a glacier. An 102 ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK EtttM fifteen hundred feet of climbing up the \':i sail. . interminable, and heart-breaking debris, which is so common on the south faces of the Himalaya, and that, too, late in the afternoon, was trying even to the best of tempers. I used quite unpublishable language, and even the imperturb- able Mummery was moved to express his feelings in much more forcible language than was customary. There are occasions when language fails, and even the pen of Iludyard Kipling is unequal to depict the situation literally, though he does his best. There rises before me his description of that scene in the railway works at Jamalpur, where an appren- tice is addressing, ' half in expostulation and half in despair, a very much disorganised engine which is sadly in need of repair.' Kipling gives us the gist of his language, but owns that after all the youth put it ' more crisply — very much more crisply.' We reached the top at last, but even then we had to traverse to the westward half a mile before beginning the descent. Once started we went at racing speed, sometimes getting a long glissade down soft snow, sometimes a run down small stone debris ; it was rather hard on poor Lor Khan, who was not shod for this kind of work, and was soon left far behind. ASCENT OF THE DIAMIRAI PEAK 103 But it was getting late, and we wished to reach the camp before dark. Just as the sun was setting over the far-away hills in the wild, unknown Tangir, and shining through a thin veil of an evening shower, the tents under the Diamirai moraine were sighted ; and during the after-dinner smoke opposite a roaring fire of pine logs we went over our day's adventures, and both agreed that we had enjoyed ourselves hugely : and so to bed. CHAPTER VII ATTEMPT TO ASCEND NANGA PAEBAT 1 An ancient peak, in that most lonely land, Snow-draped and desolate, where the white-fleec'd clouds Like lagging sheep are wandering all astray, Till the sin ill whistling wind, their shepherd rude, Drives them before him at the early dawn To feed upon the barren mountain tops. Far from the stately pines, whose branches woo The vagrant breeze with murmuring melody, Far from the yellow cornlands, far from streams And dewy lawns soft cradled deep below, Naked it stands. The cold wind's goblin prate, Of weird lost legends born in days of old, Echoes all night amongst its pinnacles; Whilst higher more remote a storm-swept dome Mocks the pale moon : there nothing living reigns Save one old spirit of a forgotten God.' Fragment. A week before this, on the same day that Bruce had left us, our cook and our head shikari, to- gether with some coolies, had been sent to fetch up from the Bunar valley any provisions they could find. We knew that if they had travelled with ordinary speed, five days was ample for the whole journey, and they were therefore two days overdue. Moreover, in our camp provisions for 104 C 7t ■ I//////// ■ NANGA PARBAT 105 only one day remained. Our position was annoy- ing. Of course, as the weather had turned fine again we wished to carry more necessaries up to the camp at the head of the Diamirai glacier, just under Nanga Parbat ; but even where we were at the base camp, it was two days' hard travelling from the nearest village and food. This position of affairs produced a long discussion, and finally we agreed that we ourselves must go down to Bunar after the dilatory servants. It was most provoking, but tr^ere was no help for it. Leaving the camp in charge of the goat-herd from the Lubar nullah, and our water-carrier or bhisti, Mummery and I started off with Lor Khan and some servants for Bunar. The further we went the worse the path became, but by skirting upwards along the hill- side, on the left of the valley, we soon left the Diamirai glacier far below us. About this point we met our head shikari, who had come on in front of the remainder of the party from Bunar — at least he said so, but we could get very little accurate information out of him. In fact, as we afterwards discovered, he had stopped at the first village he had come to, and remained there doing nothing, or at least nothing connected with getting us provisions, which work he left to the cook. After enjoying himself for three days in this 106 ATTEMPT TO ASCEND manner, thinking it was time to return, and col- lecting what he could, namely some grapes and apples, he came back to us with them as a peace- offering. Whilst he had been away, however, unfortunately for him, our other servants had explained several curious things which we at the time did not understand. These explanations left in our minds no doubt that this wretched Kashmir shikari had not only been robbing us, but also all the coolies as well. We in our ignorance thought that if the coolies were paid with our own hands, the money at least would be safe. In the East this is by no means the case, for the moment we were out of sight, this wily old ruffian would return to the coolies, telling them that they had been overpaid, and that the Sahibs commanded them instantly to give back half of the money. Our coolies were mostly Baltis from the Astor district. These poor Baltis have been a downtrodden race for centuries, harried by their more warlike and courageous neighbours — the Chilasis and the robbers of Gilgit and Hunza. So the shikari has no difficulty in making them yield to his extortion. Mummery for some time listened to his obvious lying, but soon lost his temper. A coolie anxious to go to his home in the Rupal nullah here served our purpose. The shikari was told to return to NANGA PARBAT 107 the Rupal nullah with him, and at the same time we gave him a letter to Hastings. In that letter, which he could not read, we explained the situation, and instructed Hastings to pay the shikari off and send him about his business. The route we were following soon turned away to the left, leaving the Diamirai nullah on the right. It was afterwards that we found out the reason for this. It seems to be impossible to descend or ascend this portion of the Diamirai nullah direct. The valley narrows in below the bottom of the glacier, and finally becomes a deep gorge with cliffs thousands of feet high on either side. Our change in direction soon showed us that we should have to cross the tributary Lubar nullah. This meant that we had to climb down a very steep rocky face of about 3000 feet. At about four in the afternoon we arrived at the bottom, finding an impassable glacier torrent thundering over great boulders and swollen by the melted snows of the morning. Walls of rock barred our way either up or down the stream, but Lor Khan said we were at the ford. In vain we tried to place pine trunks across — they were swept away one by one. It was a fine sight to see Lor Khan, stripped to the waist, struggling in the icy water with the great pine stems, a magnificent specimen 10s ATTEMPT TO ASCEND of fearlessness, muscle, and activity. Fortunately we had insisted on roping him, for once he was carried off his feet and had to be brought back to land half drowned but laughing. It soon became perfectly evident that we could not cross till early next morning, when the frost on the glaciers above would have frozen up the sources of this turbulent stream. As we were wondering where we could possibly find room to lie down for the night, high above us on the opposite bank a stone came bound- ing down a precipitous gully. Who had started it ? Some goat or other wild animal ; or was it our cook returning with provisions ? Shouting was useless, for the roar of the torrent drowned every noise. Five minutes passed, then ten, finally a quarter of an hour, but we were not destined to be disap- pointed ; at last, more than five hundred feet up the gully opposite, we saw our cook with all the coolies. After they had descended, a rope was thrown across to them, and we succeeded by its aid in hauling a slippery pine trunk into position behind two large stones. Over this we crossed and camped on a narrow spit of level ground underneath the perpendicular walls of rock : chickens, sugar, eggs, three maunds of flour, and four sheep were amongst the spoils brought up by our cook from Bunar. NANGA PARBAT 109 That evening we ate our meal by the ruddy light of a great camp fire, with the roar of the torrent making it almost impossible to hear our voices, and underneath some gnarled and stunted pines, whose roots were firmly imbedded in the great fissures that ran up the perpendicular rock face. As the question of provisions had been settled for some time, we returned much relieved in our minds to the Diamirai nullah. The next day, August 14th, it again rained hard nearly all day. At 2 a.m. on the 15th we started once more for the upper camp. We took with us Ragobir, Lor Khan, and a Chilasi coolie, whom I had called Richard the Third, from his likeness to the usual portraits of that monarch. More firewood and provisions and a silk tent were taken up to this camp at the head of the glacier. Two rucksacks had already been left high up on the rocks on the 9th. It was now Mummery's intention to take some more odds and ends up to where they were, and if possible push on with about a third of the pro- visions to about 20,000 feet, and leave them there for the final attempt. This necessitated sleejring on the top of the second rib of rocks. By the time I had arrived at the upper camp underneath Nanga Parbat I began to develop a headache, and, being otherwise ill as well, I had reluctantly to give up 110 ATTEMPT TO ASCEND a 1 1 \ idea of climbing further. Mummery, Ragobir, and Lor Khan went on, whilst I spent most of the morning watching them climb like flies up the almost perpendicular rib of rocks above me. But I had to get home that night, and also get the coolie home as well. This was no easy matter, for there were some steep ice slopes, with steps cut in them, and crevasses at the bottom, which so frightened poor Richard the Third, that for a long time I could not induce him even to try. In fact, ultimately I had to threaten him violently with my ice-axe. Whether he thought that it was a choice of death by cold steel above, or cold ice below in the crevasse, I don't know, but he chose the latter, and was much surprised to find that he was not going to be sacrificed after all. Then, before we got home it began to rain heavily, the mists came down, everything becoming dull and dreary, the wind sighed sorrowfully up and down the valley, and I was sorry for Mummery on the inhospitable slopes of the great mountain. Mummery spent the night on the top of the second rib of rocks, and next day lie climbed about a thousand feet up the third rib, where he left a rucksack with food. The climb was carried out almost entirely in mist ; in fact, in the afternoon down at the camp the mist and rain made things thoroughly uncomfortable. I was beginning / V } / / '/•/>/// ////' ////////'■/■ ; NANGA PARBAT 111 to get anxious about Mummery, for he did not come back by sunset, and the night promised to be one of drenching rain. But later, in the dark, he marched back into camp, entirely wet through, but far more cheerful than the circumstances war- ranted, and very pleased with the climbing. His account of the ice world on Nanga Parbat was wonderful. Nowhere in the Caucasus had he seen anything to compare with it. Avalanches had fallen down thousands of feet, set at an angle of over 60 degrees, that would have almost swept away towns. The crevasses were enormous, and the rock-climbing, although difficult, was set at such a steep angle that no time would be lost in making height to- wards the upper glacier underneath the final peak. If only the weather would clear, Mummery was sure that we could get on to this upper glacier. But the weather sulked and was against us, it rained nearly all the next day, finishing up with a tremendous thunderstorm. In hope that fine weather would now set in, we turned into our tents for the night. About midnight, gusts of cold wind began to moan amongst the stunted pines that sur- rounded our tents ; then, gathering in force, this demon of the mountains howled round our tents, and snow came down in driven sheets. The anger of the spirits that inhabited the mountains 112 ATTEMPT TO ASCEND bad been roused, we were being informed of what awaited us, should we persist in our impious endeavours to penetrate into the sanctuaries above. Many times in the pitch darkness of the night I thought the small Mummery tent I was in would be simply torn in pieces, but towards daylight the hurricane gradually died away, and by nine o'clock the sun came out. The scene, when I emerged from the tent, I shall never forget. Bright sun- shine and dazzling white snow — but where were all the groves of rhododendron bushes, from four to five feet high, that yesterday had surrounded our camp ? Loaded with the snow, they had been beaten fiat, and lay there plastered and stuck tight to the ground, by the ice and snow of the blizzard of the night before. But under the double action of the sun's heat and the rapid evaporation that takes place when the barometer stands only at about sixteen inches, the snow, which was over six inches deep, soon melted, and by the afternoon had all disappeared from around our camp. On the morrow a cloud- less sky and a northerly wind changed the whole aspect of affairs. We had a long consultation, Mummery arguing that we ought to start for Nanga Parbat at once, and make an attempt to reach the summit. His NANGA PARBAT FROM THE DIAMIRAI GLACIER. A— Upper Camp at the base of Nanga Parbat. B — First rib of rocks. C — Second rib of rocks. D — Sleeping-place on the top of the second rib of rocks. E— Third rib of rocks. F— Mr. A. F. Mummery's highest point (over 20,000 feet). G — The foot of the Diama Glacier. H — The Diamirai Glacier. The dotted line shows route taken. NANGA PARBAT 113 only fear was that Hastings would feel that we were not treating him fairly by starting before he had returned from Astor and could join us in the climb. But the weather had been changeable, and the Chilas coolies with us were predicting that when the next snowstorm came, it would be worse than the last, and the snow would not clear away so quickly. There seemed great probability in their predictions. At any rate, with the cold north wind the good weather would last, but we ought to make use of that good weather at once. So, hoping that Hastings would forgive us, we started on the final attempt to reach the summit of Nanga Parbat. Our position was as follows : — We had plenty of provisions and firewood at the camp at the head of the glacier, a tent and more provisions with some spirits and a boiling tin on the top of the second ridge of rocks, and a last rucksack with more edibles half way up the third rib of rock. On the evening of the 18th, Mummery, Eagobir, and I slept at the camp at the head of the glacier (15,000 feet), but next morning they went on alone, for the coarse food of the previous three weeks had not agreed with me : flour that is largely composed of grindstone is apt to upset one's digestion. Again I sat for a whole morning watching them crawl H 111. ATTEM PT TO ASCEND slowly up that second rib of rock. Once they were hidden from my sight in a huge cloud of snow dust, fche fringe of one of those tremendous avalanches that T have only seen in the Himalaya. At last, becoming too small to follow with the eye, they disappeared from my sight. That night I was again back in the base camp. There I found a note from Hastings that had been sent on ahead from the Lubar nullah with the goat- herd and a coolie ; and the next day Hastings himself arrived with large quantities of provisions. He had been as far as Astor, and said that without the invaluable help of Goman Singh he would never have got the coolies back over the Mazeno La. Late that night Mummery and Ragobir came into camp. They had passed the second night on the summit of the second rib of rocks. Next morn- ing, starting before daylight, they had pushed on up the final rib towards the upper snow-field. The climbing, Mummery admitted, was exces- sively difficult, but the higher he went the easier it became. Finally, at a height of over 20,000 feet, for he could see over the Nanga Parbat col on his right, Ragobir turned ill : it was therefore folly to attempt to spend another night on the mountain at that height. Reluctantly he had to return ; and his disappointment was great, for, as he said, most NANGA PARBAT 115 of the difficulties had been overcome below the upper snow-field, and he was confident that had he reached these upper snows and been able to spend another night on the mountain, he might have reached the summit on the following day. Thus ended the only attempt Mummery made to reach the summit of Nanga Parbat. I shall always look upon it as one of his finest climbs. Part of it I know from personal experience, and from Mummery's description of the upper half, there must have been some magnificent climbing, surrounded by an ice world such as can be seen nowhere except on peaks with at least 15,000 feet of snow on them. But it was on too large a scale for ordinary mortals, and the difficulties began just above the camp, at the head of the glacier, 12,000 feet below the summit of the mountain. Although the last 6000 feet of the mountain does not look as if it would present much difficulty or danger, yet above 20,000 feet one would necessarily make height very slowly, and much step -cutting would be almost impossible at that height. The following two days were spent in discussing what we should do next ; for Mummery had very sorrowfully come to the conclusion that his route up Nanga Parbat from the Diamirai glacier must be abandoned. 116 ATTEMPT TO ASCEND Ultimately it was agreed that, owing to all the recent snowfalls, a purely snow route was the only one that would give any chance of success. Our last chance lay in finding such a route ; in the Rakiot nullah, there perhaps Nanga Parbat might be less precipitous. So thither we deter- mined to go. When Mummery and Ragobir had come down from the mountain, they did not bring with them the rucksacks from the top of the second rib of rocks. These were too valuable to leave behind. Mummery, disliking the interminable scrambling over loose stones which he would have to endure should he come with the coolies, suggested that the two Gurkhas should be sent early on the 23rd up the glacier to fetch the rucksacks down to the camp at the head of the Diamirai glacier. Here later in the day Mummery should join them, and from this point he could go up the Diama glacier which lay between Nanga Parbat and the Ganalo peak, 21,650 feet high. A snow pass (Diama pass) would then separate them from the Rakiot nullah. He left us on the 23rd, and took with him Lor Khan, and Rosamir, our head coolie, to carry some extra pro- visions up to the higher camp. That evening they were joined by Ragobir and Goman Singh, who had successfully brought down the rucksacks. Nanga Parbat. Diama Pass. %lraf<^ x*^ < a &H o on -*^» W p Ch < ,d s CI o - o In >< 2 < 3 * NANGA PARBAT 117 Next morning, the 24th August, Lor Khan and Rosamir, having seen them start off up the Diama valley to the east, returned down the Diamirai valley and joined us later. Mummery, Ragobir, and Goman Sinjrh were never seen aerain. CHAPTER VIII THE INDUS VALLEY AND THIRD JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH ' For some . . . Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, And one by one crept silently to rest.' Rubaiyi'd o/Omak Khayyam. Our route with the coolies was to skirt along the lower slopes of Nanga Parbat as near the snow line as possible. This would lead us first into the Ganalo nullah, and thence to the Pakiot nullah. There we had arranged to meet Mummery by the side of the glacier. Having crossed the Diamirai glacier, we went straight up the opposite side of the valley for a pass on the ridge south-east of a pointed rock peak at the head of the Gonar nullah. This peak we have named the Gonar peak, and the pass the Ped pass (about 16,000 feet). From this pass a superb view of the head of the Diamirai nullah was obtained, whilst to the south and south-west a beautifully shaped snow moun- tain, beyond the Lubar glacier, probably the Tho- sho peak, shone in the sunlight over the Goman 118 JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH 119 Singh pass. To the east we saw for the first time the great Chongra peaks on the north-east of Nanga Parbat. On the north side of our pass snow slopes stretched down some hundreds of feet to a small glacier. Some of the coolies tried an impromptu glissade here, and seemed rather pleased at the result ; but it was a dangerous experiment, for various rocks and stones awaited their arrival at the bottom. At last in the dark after much trouble we managed to get down far enough to collect wood for our camp fires, and put up our tent by the side of a small stream. Next day it was found necessary to climb up again at least 1000 feet before descending about 2500 feet on to the snout of the Ganalo glacier. This we crossed on the ice. On the far bank most luxuriant vegetation covered the hill-side, and for a long time we climbed rapidly upwards through woods of pines, birches, and other trees till the rhododendrons were reached late in the afternoon. Still we pushed on, hoping to get over into the Rakiot nullah, for perhaps Mummery would be there awaiting tents and food. But the coolies were dead beat ; therefore, when we were still more than 1000 feet below the col, we were forced to camp beyond the limit of the brushwood in an open grass valley. L20 THE INDUS VALLEY AND THIRD Next day we went over the pass, about 1G,500 feet, into the Rakiot nullah. From the summit a splendid view of the Rakiot glacier and the northern side of Nanga Parbat could be seen. Never have I seen a glacier that presented such a sea of stormy ruin ; the waste of frozen billows stretched ever upwards towards the ice-slopes that guarded the topmost towers of the great moun- tain. Thunder and rain welcomed us, and amidst dripping trees and cold mist our camp was pitched on the true left bank of the glacier. From the top of the last pass we had come over we could see the great face down which Mummery and the Gurkhas would have had to come had they reached the Diama pass. It seemed to us quite hopeless. I spent about half an hour looking through a powerful telescope for any traces of steps cut down the only ridge that looked at all feasible. I could see none. Hastings and I were therefore of the opinion that Mummery had turned back. This he had told us he intended to do should he find the pass either dangerous or very difficult, for, as he pointed out, he was not going to risk anything on an ordinary pass. Moreover, he had expressly taken sufficient food with him, leaving it at the upper camp, so that should he have to return and follow our footsteps he would /// J? //////// ///.J. J //■/•/// //<■ ■ ///////■/■ I/////M JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH 121 have enough to last him for three days. In the Rakiot nullah we could find no traces of hirn. Lor Khan and Rosamir were at once sent back into the Ganalo nullah to meet Mummery with extra food, Hastings and I in the meantime explor- ing some distance up the valley. The day was more or less wet, with the mists lying low down on the mountains. It cleared, however, in the evening. The next two days were also wet and disagreeable. We were beginning to get anxious, and when on the 29th Lor Khan and the coolie returned, having seen nothing of Mummery, some- thing had to be done. We imagined that when the pass had proved to be too difficult, Mummery had turned back to the high camp where the food had been left. From there he would follow our route, but as the weather had been wretched, with mist lying over all the hills, perhaps he had missed his way. Or perhaps he might have sprained an ankle and be still in the Diamirai nullah. It was therefore agreed that Hastings should return towards the Diamirai nullah, and as my time was nearly at an end, if I wished to get back to England by the end of September, I should make my way to Astor as quickly as I could. Once there, I could wait a few days, and Hastings promised that as soon as 122 THE INDUS VALLEY AND THIRD possible lie would send a coolie down to the nearest spot on the Gilgit-Chilas road, where there was a telegraph-station, and telegraph the news to me at Astor. Tims we parted company, Hastings returning along our old route to the Diamirai, whilst I with a coolie and the cook set off for Astor. About a mile down the valley we were met by some of the wild folk from Gor, a village on the opposite side of the Indus. These inhabitants of Gor have a somewhat evil reputation. Not many years before, an officer out shooting in one of their nullahs was nearly murdered. They did succeed in killing his shikari who was with him, but he himself escaped owing to the lucky appearance of some soldiers from Gilgit who were going down the valley of the Indus towards Chilas. Bruce also had some experience of these turbulent tribesmen when stop- ping at Darang, on the banks of the Indus below Gor ; for whilst partridge-shooting in the hill- sides the beaters had to be armed with rifles, and played the double role of protecting Bruce and driving the game. The Gor shepherds that I met were, I believe, the only ones on the south side of the Indus. Owing to the rich pasturage in the Rakiot nullah, they kept sheep and goats there. I must say they treated me very well, and two of them JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH 123 accompanied me for a couple of days, carrying the rucksacks and showing us the way. The first night we slept in an old and disused shepherd's encampment high up, just at the limits of the pines. Next day we had to descend by most precipitous slopes to the bottom of the Buldar nullah. Our second night was spent high up on the eastern slopes of the nullah and short of the pass which was called the Liskom pass by the natives. On the next day we crossed this pass (about 16,000 feet). The view of the Chongra peaks from here is most striking, backed as it is by the great upper snow-field of the Rakiot glacier and Nanga Parbat behind. Just across the Astor valley to the east rises the Dichil peak, a terrific, double-headed rock pinnacle that is certainly over 20,000 feet high. These obliging Gor shepherds had accompanied us thus far, but no amount of persuasion could induce them to go one step further. At last, becoming frightened, they put the bags down on the snow and fled down the hill-side back to the Buldar nullah, and I was unable to give them anything for all their kindness. That afternoon, 1st Sep- tember, I reached Dashkin on the Gilgit road, and was back again in civilised country. From there I made my way to Astor. IlH THE INDUS VALLEY AND THIRD It was on the 5th of September that I received a telegram from Hastings. He had returned to the Diamirai nullah without finding Mummery. The camp there was just as we had left it. Next day, 1st September, he made his way up the glacier to f the high camp under Nanga Parbat with Kosamir and Lor Khan ; there he found the extra provisions and some other things exactly as they had been placed by Mummery on the morning of the 24th There was only one conclusion to draw — Mummery, Ragobir, and Goman Singh had been killed some- where up the glacier that lies between the Ganalo peak and Nanga Parbat. For there was absolutely no way out, except the way they had gone in. The Diama pass over to the Pakiot nullah we knew to be impossible on the eastern face, on the south lay Nanga Parbat, whilst on the north was the Ganalo peak, 21,500 feet high. If, therefore, they never returned for the provisions, some catastrophe must have overtaken them during their attempt to climb over the pass. From what I have seen of the valley, an avalanche falling from the north face of Nanga Parbat seems the most probable explanation ; but in that vast ice world the hidden dangers are so many that any suggestion must necessarily be the merest guessing, and what happened we shall never know. JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH 125 For Hastings to attempt to explore this glacier alone would have been a most hazardous and hope- less task. He had no one with him on whom he could rely, and the area to be explored was also far too large. His only alternative therefore was to go at once with the greatest speed possible to the nearest post where he knew an Englishman was, namely at Chilas. This he did, but it was not till the 5th of September that he reached Jiliper on the Indus and was able to telegraph to me at Astor. In the meantime the villagers in the Bunar nullah had been ordered by the officer in command at Chilas to explore all the valleys round the Diamirai, and on the receipt of the telegram at Astor, Captain Stewart, the head political officer of the Gilgit district, sent word to the people in the Rupal nullah to do the same as far as the Mazeno La. I felt, however, that there was no help and no hope. Out of that valley up which Mummery had gone there was but one way : that was the one by which he had entered it ; he had not returned, the provisions were untouched. It was a dreadful ending to our expedition. The mountains amongst which we had spent so many pleasant days together no longer were the same. The sunshine and the beauty were gone; savage, 126 THE INDUS VALLEY AND THIRD cruel, and inhospitable the black pinnacles of the ridges and the overhanging glaciers of cold ice filled my mind with only one thought. I could not stop at Astor. Moreover, by descending the valley I should at least meet Hastings sooner, for he was returning by forced marches to join me at Astor. On the Gth September we met at Doian. Beyond what he had already told me in his telegram there was nothing. Together we returned to Astor to arrange our future movements. There we agreed that it was necessary to return to the Diamirai nullah at once, and together explore the upper part of the valley beyond the high camp. Provisions and ponies were hastily got, and after having arranged with Captain Stewart for as much help as possible, we started for the Diamirai by way of the Indus valley and the Bunar nullah. The first day's march down the Astor valley brought us to Doian. There we were hospitably received by the officers of the Pioneer regiment, who, earlier in the year under Colonel Kelly, had marched over the Shandur pass to the relief of Chitral. Below Doian the road descends rapidly by zig- zags towards the Astor stream : soon all vegetation is left behind, and one enters a parched and barren JOURNEY TO DIAMIRAI NULLAH 127 land. The valley is hemmed in by precipitous cliffs on both sides, and the road in many places has been hewn and blasted out of the solid rock. Bones of horses strew the wayside, and occasionally a vulture will sail by. The heat becomes oppressive, and the glare from the hillsides down which no water runs suggests a mountainous country in the Sahara. Before this road was built, the old path led over the summit of the Hatu Pir, and the traveller now misses a marvellous view of Haramosh, Bakipushi, and the Indus valley by plunging down into this bare, desolate nnllah, shut in on all sides by pre- cipitous hills. The small post of Bam ghat, or Shaitan Nara, where this road finally emerges from the Astor nullah into the great valley of the Indus, is merely a post for guarding the suspension-bridge across the Astor stream. Here are stationed some Kash- mir troops, and here it is that the roads to Chilas and Gilgit separate. The Chilas road follows down the Indus on the left bank, through a country which probably has no equal in the world. How this astounding valley was formed it is difficult to say ; but the valley is there, and a wilder, grander, more desolate, and more colossal rift cannot occur elsewhere on the earth's surface. 128 THE INDUS VALLEY AND THIRD ' Is this the scene Whero the ol