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raising my eyebrows slightly, for this was indeed carrying coals to Newcastle. Baltistan consists 
exclusively of rocks, streams and dried apricots. The last named are its principal export. 
A moment --- and I understood! The poor old man had been unable to cross the plateau and was 
returning home to die! I expressed my sympathy and offered help. Oh, no, not at all! He had carried 
his sack all the way to Srinagar; but finding on arrival that the price of his produce had gone down 
by a fraction of a penny a pound, he refused to sell and was bringing the stuff back. The sack itself 
looked fabulous, so I got out the "butcher's terror" and found that it weighed four hundred and ten 
pounds. The whole business struck me as extraordinarily sublime. I dashed to old boy five rupees. 
This made him wild with happiness and restored his debilitated conviction in the existence of a 
Supreme Being who put in most of His time in caring for his faithful. 
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The next day, about four hours' ride took us to the top of the pass, from which we had a 
magnificent view of the plain of Skardu and the Indus backed by the great mountains, while in front 
of us lay the Deosai, and absolutely treeless wilderness of comparatively level country framed by 
minor peaks. It gives a unique impression of desolation. I have never seen its equal in this respect 
elsewhere. Yet the march was very pleasant with many lovely flowers and streams. The weather 
was delightful and the going good. 
The next day we went to Kranub (Kalapani is another name for it) in less than six hours in a cold 
wind under a threatening sky. After camping, the rain poured down in torrents. On the thirtieth we 
came down from the plateau in eight hours to Burzil, where there was a dak baghla. It rained 
continually till the last hour, so that we missed the distant view, but the foreground told us of the 
complete change of the character of the country. 
Burzil is on the Gilget road. This "road" (which is a good mule path) was absolutely crowded with 
every beast of burden available: men, mules, bullocks, asses, horses, camels --- all desperately bent 
on supplying the small garrison for the winter before the snow closed the passes. Gilgit being on the 
Indian side of the Pamirs and the country to the north very much more difficult than to the south, I 
was highly amused by the chronic anxiety of the government that Russia would invade India by this 
route. I doubt whether the combined resources of both governments would suffice to bring over half 
a dozen regiments. We are always hearing about the invasion of Alexander the Great; but his 
expedition is not to the point. Since his time climatic conditions all over the world have changed 
very considerably. I shall have more to say on this point when I come to deal with the Sahara. For 
the present I content myself with observing that in the time of the Macedonian empire the country 
was probably much more fertile. This is sufficiently proved by the traces of past civilizations, quite 
apart from the general evidence as to the physical phenomena which are in progress on our planet. 
We descended the Burzil valley, a gorge of amazing beauty and colouring, with gorgeous trees to 
"fledge the wild-ridged mountains steep by steep". At Pashwari it had already begun to open, and at 
Gurais a broad calm stream winds slowly through a broad level valley. As I rode slowly down the 
track to this camp I heard a sudden shout behind me. "Hat Jao!" (get out of the way!); a moment 
later a gigantic English major brushed past me muttering curses. I laughed into my beard. It was 
amusing to be taken for a native! 
At Gurais I found Ernest Radcliffe, assistant forest commissioner of Kashmir, in camp. I already 
knew him well; he received me with open arms and gave me that hot bath of my life, with lunch 
and dinner to follow. At dinner I met the galloping major, who did not recognize me when he found 
me sitting, clothed and in my right mind, and was extremely embarrassed when he realized his 
unintentional rudeness of the morning. 
{330} 
At Gurais are a big suspension bridge and the remains of a very large old fortress. On the second we 
went to Gurai and on the third to Tragobal. The road here crosses a pass some ten thousand feet 
high. It is a magnificent ride through the wildest yet richest forest and mountain scenery. Some of