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0505 Ruins of Desert Cathay : vol.2
Ruins of Desert Cathay : vol.2 / Page 505 (Color Image)

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doi: 10.20676/00000213
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forbid my attempting any detailed description. All the
rivers draining this part of the Nan-shan make their
way lower down to the plains through tortuous and deep-
cut gorges quite impracticable at the time of the summer
floods. So the only possible route, along which our Mongol
guides took us, led in succession over high transverse
spurs (Fig. 250). The first of these was crossed, at an
elevation of over 13,000 feet, and led to a delightful series
of Alpine uplands broken by a crest of red sandstone
ridges (Fig. 251). Our Mongols who knew some Chinese
called it Fêng-ta-fan.
From there we dropped down into the confined and
picturesque defile of the Ch'iang-kan Ho, where the route
throughout lay practically in the flooded river bed, causing
serious trouble and risk. The luxuriant tree growth, now
largely composed of non-conifers, was a strange treat for
eyes so long accustomed to Central-Asian barrenness.
Ascending the next spur we passed through a ruined
'Klause' designed to guard the route, and then from the
broad ridge overlooking the La-kê-ta-fan obtained a
magnificent panorama of the Richthofen Range extending
from the bend of Kan-chou River valley for a great
distance west.
Northward the ridge, still over 12,000 feet high, fell
away to the plains in gently sloping plateaus covered with
rich pasture, which were curiously reminiscent in their
structure of the loess-covered outermost slopes of the
Kun-lun south of Khotan. But what a difference of surface
conditions the far moister climate of the central Nan-shan
had created! It was impossible not to feel that this region
was already under the fertilizing influence of the Pacific
Ocean.
We found the upper slope of this outer spur furrowed
by broad valleys full of splendid fir forest, recalling scenery
familiar to me from the Eastern Alps. Here Mongol
camps abounded, and I was welcomed in state by a jolly-
looking young Mongol chief who had received warning
from Kan-chou of our possible advent (Fig. 252). Gladly
would I have remained for a short rest among these
cheerful nomads whom Chinese civilization has in the