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0474 Ruins of Desert Cathay : vol.2
Ruins of Desert Cathay : vol.2 / Page 474 (Grayscale High Resolution Image)

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doi: 10.20676/00000213
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lay here fully 700 feet higher than on the north side, and
at 13,500 feet or so its growth was richer than at the
lowest point touched by us in the Chu-lung-kuan Valley.
The striking difference was manifestly due to greater
abundance of moisture. For the same reason denudation
and erosion of the slopes was far less advanced here than
at corresponding heights north of the watershed. The
same observation was repeated on our subsequent crossings
of these Nan-shan ranges. It formed a complete contrast
to the surface conditions with which I was familiar from
the Hindukush and the Kashmir Himalaya. There invari-
ably the northern slope is clothed in richer vegetation, the
southern one being left relatively bare and consequently
more exposed to erosion. Two hours' brisk walking
brought us down close to where the narrow valley de-
bouches into the down-like expanse of the upper Pei-ta
Ho basin. The track was so faint that its use must have
been rare for many years past.
There was luxuriant pasture and plentiful scrub where
we halted near the debouchure of the little valley, about
12,000 feet above sea. Beasts and men, too, deserved a
good rest after the trying pass. But soon after midnight
a violent gale blew, and in the morning I found about an
inch of snow on the ground. The minimum temperature
had fallen to six degrees Fahrenheit below freezing-point.
But the sun shone out brightly, and my eyes wandered
with pleasure over the gently sloping basin ten to twelve
miles broad, drained by the Pei-ta Ho (Fig. 238), which we
were to cross that day from north to south. It promised an
easy march, just such as our comfort-loving Chinese would
appreciate; but human factors had decreed it otherwise.
We had just emerged from our little valley into the
great Pamir-like plain beyond, when I noticed that our
baggage train, instead of following us to where we
intended to cross the Pei-ta Ho, was moving away at an
unwontedly brisk pace by a track to the south-east. This
was roughly the direction of the Kan-chou river's head-
waters, and it was easy to guess that our pony-men would
have liked us to turn there straight away. But my own
plan was first to cross the range of Alexander III. and