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0133 Sand-Buried Ruins of Khotan : vol.1
Sand-Buried Ruins of Khotan : vol.1 / Page 133 (Color Image)

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doi: 10.20676/00000234
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CHAP. V.]   CHINESE AT SUBASHI   81

of the passes, so well known to me from beyond Kashmir, could be seen sitting, with seeming unconcern, on the little mounds over their holes.

At 11.30 a.m. I reached the pass, which seems to be only a slight depression in a broad transverse ridge connecting the

Murtagh-Ata massive with the so-called Sarikoli range, the eastern brim of the Russian Pamirs. The pass, a little over 14,000 feet above the sea, is marked by a stone heap, the traditional resting-place of some saint. Popular lore about mountain passes does not seem to differ much northwards of the great Himalayan watershed from what I know it to be on the other side. Heavy mist .on right and left prevented a view of the higher ranges, but just in front to the North I could look down into the open, flat valley which descends to Subashi and the Little Karakul Lake. I had not far advanced on the small spur over which the path leads steeply downwards, when icy-cold rain, mixed with snow, began to come down again. It was far heavier than before, and by the time I passed the first Aul (herdsmen's camp), called Igrikyök at the bottom of the hill amphitheatre, I felt nearly drenched. However, there was little hope of the weather getting better, and I therefore deemed it best to push on to Su-bashi (" Head of the Waters"), the Chinese post in the valley, where better shelter and supplies could be expected. In the drizzling rain I passed some half-decayed Kirghiz graveyards and a stone-built Gumbaz, evidently the remains of some older structure.

At last, by 2 p.m., the Chinese post came in view, and with heartfelt gratitude I greeted its shelter. Inside a neglected stone enclosure I found, besides a number of tumbledown buildings, a row of mud-built huts, representing the quarters of the garrison. The latter soon emerged in its full strength of eight men, and their commandant, a sort of corporal, hospitably invited me to his state-room. It was, in truth, a poor enough hovel, lighted by a hole in the roof which, closed on account of the rain, admitted only a dim

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