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| 0739 |
Ruins of Desert Cathay : vol.2 |
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sunshine still intensified all the colours of the scene when
we pitched camp here, and it was refreshing to see our
hard-tried animals revel in the pasture, such as it was,
while the warmth of the setting sun lasted. But their
treat did not last long, for by nightfall a snow-storm
was again sweeping down from the mountains.
On September 11th we started under a sky grey with
snow-laden clouds for the western extremity of the lake.
A bluff rocky promontory soon stopped progress by the
shore, and forced us to ascend a valley behind it in the
hope of finding a passage practicable for the animals
higher up. The western bearing of this valley tempted
us to follow it right up to its head, which promised a
'short cut' towards the great depression expected beyond
the lake. We reached the previously sighted saddle,
about 17,700 feet above sea, without serious trouble early
in the afternoon; and in spite of the driving sleet and the
snow which covered the ground, could have made good
our object if only our baggage train had followed us. But
the faint-hearted drivers, afraid of the pass, had preferred
to lag behind, deceiving Ibrahim Beg with a forged
message. By the time we had gone back to fetch them it
was too late to cross the pass, and we had to descend
again into the valley for the night's camp. It meant
practically the loss of a day, and the icy gale which howled
all night did not help to raise our spirits.
Next morning we discovered a passage practicable for
laden animals over the low but precipitous ridge fringing
the lake shore. The descent was made, and after six miles
we reached a low spur which overlooked the westernmost
inlet of the lake. Wild asses were grazing here in small
groups, but with their usual shyness effectively evaded
our rifles. As soon as we turned the spur a great change
took place in the landscape. We found ourselves in a wide
depression edged on the south by a low range of red hills,
apparently sandstone, stretching far away westwards and
on the north by the foot of the great snowy range behind
which lay the Yurung-kash Valley. Here at last I felt
assured about our hoped-for route. Undismayed by
repeated snow-showers and an icy gale, our column moved
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