Stein, Sand Buried Ruins of Khotan
Stein, Sand Buried Ruins of Khotan
RUINS
OF
KHOTAN
SAND-BURIED
RUINS OF KHOTAN
PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY OF
ARCH/EOLOGICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL
EXPLORATION IN CHINESE TURKESTAN
BY
M. AUREL STEIN
CHEAPER EDITION
WITH A MAP FROM ORIGINAL SURVEYS AND
NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON
HURST AND BLACKETT, LIMITED
13, Great Marlborough Street
1904
Ail rights reserved
AV
TO
THE MEMORY
OF
MY BROTHER
WHOSE LOVING CARE EVER FOLLOWED ME THROUGH LIFE,
THIS ACCOUNT OF MY JOURNEY,
FIRST RECORDED FOR HIM
IS INSCRIBED
IN UNCEASING AFFECTION AND SORROW
INTRODUCTION
The journey described in these pages was carried out in the year
igoo-oi, under the auspices of the Government of India. Its
main object was the systematic exploration of ancient remains
about Khotan and in the adjoining parts of the great desert of
Chinese Turkestan. The fresh materials thus brought to light
for the study of the early history and culture of those regions
were so extensive that my full scientific report must, by reason
of its bulk and cost, necessarily remain beyond the reach of the
general public. I have therefore gladly availed myself of the
permission accorded to me to publish independently the present
narrative, which is intended to record for a wider class of readers
my personal experiences and observations, as well as the main
facts concerning my antiquarian discoveries.
I have spared no trouble to render my account of the latter
accurate in its details and yet thoroughly inteUigible to the non-
Orientahst. It has been my hope to attract his interest to a
fascinating chapter of ancient history which witnessed inter-
change between the civilisations of India, China, and the
Classical West in that distant part of Central Asia, and which
seemed almost completely lost to us. If this hope is fulfilled,
and if at the same time these pages convey adequate impres-
sions of the strange scenes and conditions amidst which I passed
that year of trying but happy toil, I shall feel repaid for the
additional labour involved in the preparation of this narrative.
The circumstances which induced me to form the project of
these explorations, and the arrangements by which I was enabled
to carry it into execution, have already been explained in my
"
Preliminary Report on a Journey of Archaeological and Topo-
viii INTRODUCTION.
graphical Exploration in Chinese Turkestan," published in
1901
under the authority of the Secretary of State for India. Hence
a succinct notice of them may suffice here. The idea of archaeo-
v logical work about Khotan first suggested itself to me in the
spring of
1897,
in consequence of some remarkable antiquarian
acquisitions from that region. Among the papers left by the
distinguished but ill-fated French traveller, M. Dutreuil de
Rhins, were fragments of ancient birch-bark leaves, which had
been acquired in the vicinity of Khotan. On expert examina-
j
tion they proved to contain a Buddhist text in an early Indian
< script and language, and were soon recognised as the oldest
1 Indian manuscript then known, going back to the first centuries
of our era.
About the same time the
"
British collection of Central-Asian
antiquities
"
formed at Calcutta through the efforts of Dr. A. F.
Rudolf Hoernle, c.i.e., received from the same region notable
additions, consisting of fragments of paper manuscripts, pieces
of ancient pottery, and similar relics. Thej^ had been sold to
representatives of the Indian Government in Kashgar, Kashmir
and Ladak as finds made by native
"
treasure-seekers
"
at ancient
sites about Khotan. Similar purchases had reached public
collections at St. Petersburg through the Russian Consul-General
at Kashgar and others. A curious feature of all these acquisi-
tions made from a distance was that, besides unmistakably
genuine documents in Indian and Chinese writing, they included
a large proportion of texts displaying a strange variety of
entirely
"
unknown scripts," which could not fail to arouse
suspicion. While the materials thus accumulated, no reliable
information was ever forthcoming as to the exact origin of the
finds or the true character of the ruined sites which were supposed
to have furnished them. No part of Chinese Turkestan had then
^been explored from an archaeological point of view, and it
struck me that, however much attention these and other future
discoveries might receive from competent Orientalists in Euro})e,
their full historical and antiquarian value could never be realised
without systematic researches on the spot.
The practicable nature of the project was proved in the mean-
time by the memorable march which Dr. Hedin made in the
PLAN OF EXPLORATIONS.
ix
winter of 1896
past two areas of sand-buried ruins in the desert
north-east of Khotan. Though the distinguished explorer,
during his necessarily short halt at each place, was unable to
seciue any exact evidence as to the character and date of the
ruins, this discovery (of which the first account reached me in
1898)
sufficed to demonstrate both the existence and the com-
parative accessibility of ancient sites likely to reward exca-
vation.
It was only in the summer of 1898^that I found leisiu-e to
work out the detailed plan of my journey and to submit it with
Dr. Hoernle's weighty recommendation to the Indian Govern-
ment, whose sanction and assistance were indispensable for its
execution. Generously supported first by Sir Mackvvorth
Young, K.C.S.I., late Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab, and
subsequently on my temporary transfer to Bengal by the late
Sir
John
Woodburn, K.c.s.i., the lamented head of that adminis-
tration and a zealous friend of Oriental learning, my proposals
met with favourable consideration on the part of Lord Curzon's
Government. In
July, 1899,
the scheme, in which Sir Charles
Rivaz, K.C.S.I., then Member of the Viceregal Council and now
Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab, had from the first shown
kind personal interest, received the final sanction of the Govern-
ment of India. A resolution in the Department of Revenue and
Agriculture provided for my deputation on special duty to Chinese
Turkestan, during a period of one year. At the same time a
grant of Rs.
9,000
(;^6oo), partly from Imperial resources and
partly from contributions by the Local Governments of the
Punjab and Bengal, was placed at my disposal to meet the esti-
mated expenditure on the journey and explorations.
That, notNsithstanding the great distances and physical
obstacles to be overcome and in spite of all the uncertainties
attending an enterprise in a new field, I succeeded in accom-
pHshing the whole of my programme strictly within the sanc-
tioned estimates of time and expense, is a fact which from a prac-
tical and
quasi-administrative point of \'iew I feel proud to
record. How much anxious thought, calculation and effort its
attainment cost me, need scarcely be detailed here. Considering
the nature and extent of the ground covered by my travels, and
X INTRODUCTION.
the difficulties of work in the desert, the relatively low expendi-
ture involved in my explorations has since been noted with sur-
prise by brother archaeologists and others.
Long experience of marching and camping gained on Indian
ground certainly helped in restricting the cost. But even thus
the expenses of my expedition would certainly have been higher,
had not the Survey of India Department liberally offered its
assistance. Previous antiquarian tours in Kashmir, the Punjab,
and on the Afghan Frontier had taught me the importance of
exact topographical observation as an adjunct of my researches.
The necessity of fixing accurately the position of ancient sites
and generally elucidating the historical geography of the country
was bound to bring surveying operations in Chinese Turkestan
into the closest connection with my immediate task. But in
addition I was anxious from the first to utilise whatever oppor-
tunities the journey might offer for geographical work of a more
general character in regions which had hitherto remained without
a proper survey or altogether unexplored.
Colonel St. George Gore, r.e., c.s.i., Surveyor-General of
India, proved most willing to further this object. He kindly
agreed to depute with me one of the native Sub-Surveyors of his
Department, and to provide the necessary equipment of surveying
instruments, together with a special grant of Rs.
2,000 (;^I33), in
order to cover the additional expenses. Of the excellent services
rendered by Babu Ram Singh, the Sub-Surveyor selected, my
narrative gives ample evidence. With his help
a continuous
system of surveys, by plane-table, astronomical
observations and
triangulation, was carried on during the whole of my travels in
Chinese Turkestan. The results of these surveys, which in the
mountains I was able to supplement by photogrammetric survey
work of my own, and the direction and supervision of which
throughout claimed nmch of my time and attention, are now
embodied in maps published by the Trigonometrical Branch of
the Survey of India. From these the small scale map was pre-
pared which, with the kind permission of the Royal
Geographical
Society, has been reproduced for the present volume.
For the generous consideration and aid of the Indian Govern-
ment that alone enabled me to undertake the scientific enter-
AID OF INDIAN GOVERNMENT. xi
prise I had planned, I shall ever retain the feeling of deep and
sincere gratitude. Through it, I had secured at last the long
and eagerly sought chance to serve, in a new field and with a
measure of freedom such as had never fallen to my share, those
interests of Oriental research which had claimed me from the
commencement of my student days, and which had brought
me to India.
The twelve years since passed, mainly in the service of the
Punjab University, had taught me fully to appreciate the im-
portance of both time and money in regard to archaeological
labours. Though placed tantalisingly near to the ground which
by its ancient remains and historical associations has always
had a special fascination for me, I had rarely been able to devote
to antiquarian work more than brief intervals of hard-earned
leisure.
The fact that my administrative duties had no direct connec-
tion with my scientific interests, might well have made me feel
despondent about the chance of ever obtaining the means needed
for systematic archaeological explorations, even on well-known
ground and in easily accessible regions. For with, I fear, the
majority of fellow-workers I had failed to profit by the example
of the late Dr. Schhemann, who, before attempting to realise
his grand projects at Troy and Mykene, had resolutely set him-
self to assure that safest base of success, personal independence
and an ample reserve of funds.
The
exceptional help which the Indian Government, inspired
by Lord Curzon's generous interest in the history and anti-
quities of the East, had accorded to me, for a time removed the
difficulties
against which I had struggled, and brought the
longed-for
opportunity within my reach. But remembering
the
circumstances under which it had been secured, I could not
prevent anxious thoughts often crossing my mind in the course
of my
preparations and after. Would Fate permit the full exe-
cution of my plan within the available time, and would the
results prove an adequate return for the liberal consideration
and aid that the Government had extended to me ?
I knew well that neither previous training and experience, nor
careful
preparation and personal zeal, could guarantee success.
xii
INTRODUCTION.
The wide extent of the region to be searched and the utter
insufficiency of rehable information would alone have justified
doubts as to how much those sand-buried sites would yield up
during a limited season. But in addition there was the grave
fact that prolonged work in the desert such as I contemplated
would have to be carried through in the face of exceptional
physical difficulties and even dangers. Nor was it possible to
close my eyes to the very serious obstacles which suspicions of
the local Chinese administration and quasi-political apprehen-
sions, however unfounded, might raise to the realisation of my
programme.
When I now look back upon these anxieties and doubts, and
recognise in the light of the knowledge since gathered how much
there was to support them, I feel doubly grateful to the kindly
Destiny which saved my plans from being thwarted by any of
those difficulties, and which allowed my labours to be rewarded
by results richer than I had ventured to hope for. In respect
of the efforts and means by which these results were secured, no
remarks seem here needed ; the reader of my present narrative,
whatever his knowledge of Central Asia and its historical past
may be, can safely be left to judge of them for himself. But in
regard to the scientific value of the results similar reticence
would scarcely be justified, however much personal feelings might
make me incline towards it.
It is impossible to overlook the fact that archaeological researcli
in great fields like India and Central Asia, which lie beyond the
stimulating influence of Biblical associations, has not as yet
succeeded in gaining its due share of symj^athyand interest from
the wider public. In consequence the latter has so far had
little opportunity of learning to appreciate the great historical
problems which are involved in those researches. In the absence
of such prei)aratory information the non-Orientalist could not
be expected to form for himself a correct estimate of the im-
portance of the discoveries resulting from my explorations without
the guidance of expert opinion. I must therefore feel grateful that
the generous attention paid to my labours by the most
rei)re-
sentativc body of qualified fellow-scholars j)ermits me to supply
expert opinion in a clear and conclusive form.
SCIENTIFIC RESULTS OF JOURNEY. xiii
The International Congress of Orientalists, assembled at
Hamburg in September,
1902,
before which I was privileged to
give an account of my journey and excavations, adopted the
following resolution, proposed by Professor Henri Cordier, the
representative of the French Government, and Dr. A. A. Mac-
donell, Boden Professor of Sanskrit at Oxford, and recommended
by the combined Indian, Central-Asian, and Far-Eastern Sec-
tions
:
"
The Xlllth International Congress of Orientalists held at
Hamburg beg to express their thanks to His Excellency the Viceroy
and the Government of India for the great encouragement they
have extended to Oriental learning and research by granting to Dr.
M. A. Stein the necessary leisure and means for the prosecution of
his recent explorations in Ecistem Turkestan. They desire at the
same time to express their appreciation of the highly important
results which have rewarded the labours of the scholar selected by
the Government of India, and which represent an ample return
for the outlay incurred, owing to the practical nature of the opera-
tions conducted by him. They would also venture to express the
hope that faciUties will be given to him for completing the pub-
lication and elaboration of the results obtained, and that the Govern-
ment wiU be pleased to sanction any necessar\- extension for this
purpose of Dr. Stein's present deputation. Finally, they venture
to express the hope that, when circumstances permit, the interests
of archaeological research will be allowed to benefit by Dr. Stein's
special experience and previous knowledge, which are Ukely to
facilitate considerably the further explorations which it is desirable
should be entrusted to him in the interests of India."
As far as the space and the limited means of illustration avail-
able in this personal narrative would permit, I have endeavoured
to explain to my readers the significance of the mass of anti-
quarian materials brought to light by my excavationswhether
in the form of objects of ancient art and industry
;
or in those
hundreds of old manuscripts and documents which the desert
sand has preserv^ed in such surprising freshness
;
or finally in the
many curious observations I was able to make on the spot about
the conditions of every-day life, etc., once prevailing in those
sand-buried settlements. But of the great historical questions
xiv
INTKODUCTION.
which all these finds help to
illuminate, it was impossible to show
more than the bare outlines, and those only in glimpses. This
cannot be the place for their systematic discussion. But I
may at least indicate here the main directions in which those
discoveries are likely to open new vistas into obscure periods of
Central-Asian civilisation.
The early spread of Buddhist teaching and worship from India
into Central Asia, China and the Far East is probably the most
remarkable contribution made by India to the general develop-
ment of mankind. Chinese records had told us that Buddhism
reached the
"
Middle Kingdom
"
not directly from the land of
its birth, but through Central-Asian territories lying northward.
We also knew from the accounts left by the devoted Chinese
pilgrims who, from the fourth century a.d. onwards, had made
their way to the sacred Buddhist sites in India, that Sakyamuni's
creed still counted numerous followers in many of the barbarian
"
Western Kingdoms
"
they passed through. But these Chinese
travellers, best represented by the saintly
"
Master of the Law,"
Hiuen-Tsiang, our Indian Pausanias, had their eyes fixed on
subjects of spiritual interest, on holy places and wonder-working
shrines, on points of doctrine and monastic observance. Of the
many things of this world about which their observations would
have been of far greater interest for the historical student, they
have rarely chosen to inform us even within the sacred bounds of
India. Hence their brief notices of Central-Asian countries,
visited merely en route, fail to supply definite indications of the
extent to which Indian culture, language and art had spread with
Buddhist propaganda across the Himalaya and the Hindukush.
That such influences had been at work there for long centuries,
and sometimes penetrated even much further to the East, occa-
sional references in the Chinese Annals and elsewhere had led us to
suspect. But of those indigenous records and remains which
might enable us to reconstruct that bygone phase of civilisation
in its main asi)ects, all trace seemed to have vanished with the
Muhammadan conquest (tenth-eleventh century).
Chance finds of ancient manuscripts, in Sanskrit and mostly
Buddhistic, which commenced in
1890
with Captain (now
Colonel) Bower's famous birch-bark leaves from Kucha, were
BUDDHISM IN CENTRAL ASIA. xv
the first tangible proof that precious materials of this kind
might still be preserved under the arid soil of Chinese Turkestan,
The importance of these literary relics was great, apart from
their philological value
;
for they plainly showed that, together
with Buddhism, the study of the classical language of India also
found a home in that distant land beyond the Himalaya. But
on the cultural entourage in w^hich this far transplanted Indian
learning had flourished, such chance acquisitions, of uncertain
origin and unaccompanied by archaeological evidence, could
throw little light.
For systematic excavations, which alone could supply this
evidence, the region of Khotan appeared from the first a field of
particular promise. In scattered notices of Chinese records
there was much to suggest that this little kingdom, situated
on the important route that led from China to the Oxus Valley
and hence to India as well as to the West, had played a prominent
^art in developing the impulses received from India and trans-
mitting them eastwards. The close connection with ancient
Indian art seemed particularly marked in whatever of small
antiques, such as pottery fragments, coins and seals, native
agency had supplied from Khotan. And fortunately for our
researches, archaeology could here rely on the help of a very
effective allythe moving sand of the desert which preserves
what it buries. Ever since human activity first created the oases
of Khotan territory, their outskirts must have witnessed a
continuous struggle with that most formidable of deserts, the
Taklamakan ; while local traditions, attested from an early
date, told of settlements that had been abandoned before its
advance.
The ruined sites explored by me have more than justified the
hopes which led me to Khotan and into its desert. Scattered
over an area which in a straight Une extends for more than three
hundred miles from west and east, and dating back to very
different periods, these ruins throughout reveal to us a uniform
and well-defined ci\'ilisation. /It is easy to recognise now that
this bygone culture rested mainly on Indian foundations. But
there has also come to fight unmistakable evidence of other
powerful influences, both from the West and from China, which
XVI
INTEODUCTION.
helped to shape its growth and to invest it with an individual
character and fascination of its own^
The origin and history of the culture that once flourished in
Buddhist Khotan, are faithfully reflected in the remarkable
series of sculptures and paintings which the ancient shrines and
dwelling places, after long centuries of burial beneath the dunes,
have yielded up. Exact archaeological evidence enables us to
determine the various periods at which these settlements were
invaded by the desert sand. Though these periods range from
the third to the close of the eighth century of our era, yet the pre-
ponderance of Indian art influences is attested by the latest as
well as by the earliest of these finds. The rich statuary of the
Rawak Stupa Court, and the decorative wood carvings of the
ancient site beyond Niya, reproduce with astonishing fidelity
the style and motives of that fascinating
*
Graeco-Buddhist
'
art which, fostered by Hellenistic-Roman influences grew up
and flourished in Gandhara (the present Peshawar Valley) and
other neighbouring tracts in the extreme North-West of India,
during the centuries immediately preceding and following the
commencement of our era. Yet when we turn from those remains
to the frescoes on the walls of the small Buddhist shrines at
Dandan-Uiliq, dating some five hundred years later, we recog-
nise with equal distinctness the leading features of ancient
Indian pictorial art as preserved for us in the Ajanta Cave
paintings.
The records of the Chinese Annals ])lainly showed us that for
considerable periods under both the Later Han and the Tang
dynasties China had maintained effective political control over
the kingdom of Khotan. My excavations have confirmed
these records, and from the finds of Chinese documents on wood
or paper, Chinese coins, articles of manufacture, etc., it has
become abundantly clear that Chinese civilisation no less than
political ascendency asserted there a powerful influence. Seeing
how close for centuries were the relations between Khotan and
the great empire eastwards in matters of administration, trade
and industrial intercourse, we cannot feel surprised to find a
connection in art also attested by manifest traces. It is China
whicli in this direction appears the main borrower
;
for besides
ART OF ANCIENT KHOTAX. xvii
such distinct historical evidence as the notice about a scion of the
royal house of Khotan, whom the Annals name as the founder
of a new pictorial school in China in the seventh century a.d.,
there is much to suggest that the Indian element which so con-
spicuously pervades the whole Buddhist art of the Far East had
to a very large extent found its way thither through Khotan.
Yet a careful analysis of the composition and drawing in more
than one of the frescoes and painted panels of Dandan-Uiliq
will show that Chinese taste also had its influence on the later art
of Khotan.
For us still greater interest must attach to the convincing
evidence disclosed as to the question how far into Central Asia
the classical art of the West had penetrated during the first
centuries of our era. We see its triumphant advance to Khotan
half-way between Western Europe and Peking, strikingly demon-
strated by the remarkable series of classical seals, impressed on
clay and yet preserved in wonderful freshness, which still adhere
to a number of the many ancient documents on wood discovered
at the sand-buried site beyond Niya. As explained in Chapter
XXV., where I have discussed and illustrated some of these
important finds, we cannot make sure in each case where the
well-modelled figures of Greek deities, such as Pallas Athene and
Eros, or the classically treated portrait heads that appear in
these seals, were actually engraved.
But it is certain that the
seals themselves were currently used by officials and others
resident within the kingdom of Khotan, and that classical models
greatly influenced the work of local lapidaries and die-sinkers.
The remarkable diversity of the cultural influences which met
and mingled at Khotan during the third century a.d. is forcibly
brought home to us by these records from a remote Central-Asian
settlement, inscribed on wooden tablets in an Indian language and
writing and issued by officials
with strangely un-Indian titles,
whose seals carry us to the
classical world far away in the West.
The imitation of early Persian
art of which, five centuries
later, we find unmistakable
traces in some of the paintings of
sacred Buddhist subjects recovered from the ruins of Dandan-
UiUq, is a curious parallel, and from an historical point of view
almost equally instructive.
B
xviii
INTEODUCTION.
The dwelling places, shrines, etc.,\of those ancient settlements
had, no doubt, before the desert sand finally buried them, been
cleared by the last inhabitants and others of everything that
possessed intrinsic value. But much of what they left behind,
though it could never tempt the treasure-seekers of succeeding
ages, has acquired for us exceptional value^ The remains of
ancient furniture such as the wooden chair reproduced on
p. 356 ;
the shreds of silks and other woven fabrics
;
the tatters
of antique rugs
;
the fragments of glass, metal and pottery
ware
;
the broken pieces of domestic and agricultural imple-
ments, and the manifold other relics, however humble, which
had safely rested in the sand-buried dwellings and their deposits
of rubbishthese all help to bring vividly before our eyes details
of ancient civilisation that without the preserving force of the
desert would have been lost for ever.
But however interesting and instructive such details may be,
they would, by themselves, not permit us with any degree of
critical assurance to reconstruct the life and social organisation
which once flourished at these settlements, or to trace the
historical changes which they have witnessed. The hope of ever
elucidating such questions was dependent on the discovery of
written records, and it is fortunate indeed that, at the very sites
which proved richest in those relics of material culture, the finds
of ancient manuscripts and documents were also unexpectedly
ample and varied. The Sanskrit manuscripts excavated at
Dandan-Uiliq acquaint us with that class of canonical Buddhist
literature which we may assume to have been most cherished in
the monastic establishments of ancient Khotan. The series of
Chinese documents discovered in ruins of the same site is of
particular historical interest. The exact dates recorded in
them
(781-790
A.D.), in combination with other evidence, clearly
indicate the close of the eighth century as the time when the
settlement was deserted, while their contents throw curious
side-lights on the economical and political conditions
of the
territory immediately before Chinese suzerain
power finally
abandoned these regions to Tibetan invasion. Sanskrit manu-
scrij)ts and records in Chinese mark foreign imports in the culture
of Khotan. All the more interest attaches to the numerous
DISCOVERIES OF
ANCIENT RECORDS. xix
documents and fragmentary texts from the same site which show
an otherwise
unknown language, manifestly non-Sanskritic yet
written in Indian Brahmi characters
;
for it appears very pro-
bable that in them we have records of the tongue actually spoken
at that period by the indigenous population of Khotan.
We see Sanskrit, Chinese and the same non-Sanskritic language
similarly represented among the Uterary finds from the ruined
temple of Endere, in the extreme east of the territory explored.
But here in addition there appears Tibetan, as if to remind us of
the prominent part which Tibet too has played in the history of
Central Asia. A curious Chinese graffito found on the waU
of the Endere temple clearly refers to the Tibetans, and gives
a date which, since its recent examination by Sinologists, can
be safely read as
719
a.d. It is probable that these finds of
Tibetan manuscripts are directly connected with that extension
of Tibetan power into Eastern Turkestan which the Chinese
Annals record for that very period.
But much older cind of far greater importance than any of
these finds are the hundreds of Kharoshthi documents on wood
and leather brought to light from the ruined houses and the
rubbish heaps of the ancient settlement discovered beyond
the point where the Niya River now loses itself in the desert.
Their peculiar writing material (so much older than the paper
of my other Uterary finds), their early Indian script and language,
and the surprisingly perfect state of preservation of many among
them would alone have sufficed to invest these documents
with special interest. But their exceptional historical value
is derived from the fact that they prove to contain records
written as early as the third century of our era, and dealing
with a wide range of matters of administration and private
hfe.
In Chapter XXVI. I have endeavoured to indicate the varied
nature and abounding interest of the information which this
mass of official reports and orders, letters, accounts, and miscel-
laneous
"
papers
"
(to use an anachronism) is bound to reveal
to us. The results already obtained have opened new and
far-reaching vistas. It is no small discovery to find the old
local tradition of a colonisation of Khotan from the extreme
B 2
XX INTRODUCTION.
North-West of India confirmed by the use, in ordinary practical
intercourse, of an Indian language and a script peculiar to
the very region from which those Indian immigrants were
believed to have come.
The thought of the grave risks with which nature and, still
more, human activity threaten all these relics of antiquity, was
ever present to my mind, and formed an urgent incentive to
unwearied exertion, however trying the conditions of work
might be. On the one hand I had ample occasion in the
desert to observe the destructive
effect -i)f
erosion by wind]^
and sand on whatever of ancient remains is left exposed to its
slow but unrelenting power. On the other I could not fail
to be impressed by the warnings of impending destruction
through the hand of man : there were the evident traces of
the mischief done by Khotan
"
treasure-seekersjj at the more
accessible sites, and also, alas ! a vivid remembrance of the
irretrievable loss which-the study of Indian art and antiquities
has suffered through 'l^irresponsible digging
"
carried on until
recent years by, and for, amateur collectors among the ruined
Buddhist shrines of the North-West Frontier of India.
Though the climate of the Turkestan desert is not inferior in
conserving capacity to that of Egypt, yet neither Khotan nor
any other territory bordering on that desert could ever compare
with the land of the Pharaohs in wealth of antiquarian remains
awaiting exploration,
"
Ancient cities," complete with palaces,
streets, markets, etc., such as are pictured by Turkestan folklore,
and also by indiscriminating European imagination, as lying
submerged under the sand-dunes through a kind of Sodom
and Gomorrah catastrophe, are certainly not to be looked for.
The sites where settlements abandoned in early times could
be located, with ruins still capable of excavation, were few
in number, and even those among them which, being further
removed from the present inhabited area, had so far escaped
the ravages of the
"
treasure-seekers," could not be expected
to remain safe much longer. The time seems still distant
when Khotan will see its annual stream of tourists.
Yet the
extensive industry of forged
"
old books
"
which had grown
up in Khotan during recent years, and which I was able to
RISKS TO KHOTAN ANTIQUITIES. rri
trace and expose in detail (see Chapter XXXI.
),
sufficiently
shows how dangerous a factor "collecting" has already become
even in Chinese Turkestan.
In the face of such difficulties as work in the
Taklamakan
presents I could never have made my
explorations sufficiently
extensive and thorough without the active co-operation of the
Chinese administrators of the districts from which I had to
draw guides, labour, supplies
Up
the Jhelam ValleyArrival in KashmirPreparations at
SrinagarThe Kashmir ChronicleCamp on Sind RiverThe
Bagh of Buchvor
'
Darband
'
of KhaibarMore alpine climbsMarching of
KanjutisA polyglot campClimbs to MisgarHunza hillmen
dischargedA Celestial soldierYaks from the Pamir
Arrival at
Little Kara-kul
67-78
CONTENTS.
xx
CHAPTER
VI.
ON MUZTAGH-ATA-
PAGE
Lakes of L. Kara-kul and Basik-kulDay of alpine rainApprehen-
sions of Kirghiz BegKirghiz hospitalityA
hitch about
transportPhoto-theodolite surveyStart for Muztagh-Ata
Despatch of
"
prospecting
"
partiesPreparing for the moun-
tainsInteresting geographical taskForged birch-bark manu-
scriptSuspected forgeries
179-189
CONTENTS.
xixi
CHAPTER XIII.
TO THE HEADWATERS OF THE YURUNG-KASH.
PAGE
Start for the mountainsDebouchure of Yuning-kash R.Through
the outer rangesCrossing of Ulugh-DawanTrying march to
BuyaIn the Pisha ValleyA centenarian hillman
" Kuen-
luen Peak No.
5
"
A grand panoramaPrecipitous descent
xxxii CONTENTS.
Alluvial deposits on irrigated groundRising of ground level
" The
Aksakal of the Taklamakan
"
Turdi's old ponyA failed specu-
lationAn antique fodder storeEnd of ill-fated animal . 276-287
CHAPTER XX.
DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS.
Finds in ruined monasteryPicture of rat-kingDocuments in
unknown languageProbable contentsFinds of Chinese re-
cordsAn ancient petitionAncient name of Dandan-Uiliq
" Home
mails
"
Forced marches to KeriyaHelp of AmbanStart for
CONTENTS.
XXXV
PAGE
KaradongAlong the Kenya RiverThe shepherds of the
riverine jungleGuides from Tonguz-basteThe first sand-
stormArrival at KaradongA legend of Hiuen-Tsiang
' Tati
'
of HanguyaReturn to Khotan
environs
.......... 413-423
CHAPTER XXX.
AK-SIPIL AND THE SCULPTURES OF THE RAWAk STLPA.
Halt at Yurung-kash
" Culture-strata
"
of Tam-6ghilMarch to
Ak-sipilRemains of ancient fortSculpture from Kighillik
A
huge refuse-heapDiscovery of Rawak StupaSuccession of
sand-stormsTrying heat and glarePlan of StupaExcava-
tion in Stupa courtClearing of colossal statuesThreatened
collapse of imagesRisks of excavationWealth of statuary
Interesting relievos
" Tips
"
in
TurkestanLast visit to YotkanPetty trade of oasisForeign
coloniesVisit to Kara-kash townSite of Kara-dobeLeave-
taking of TurdiNiaz Akhun's matrimonial entanglement
pony, donkey, or
bullock.
To proceed to any distance on foot must seem a real
hardship even to the poorer classes. No wonder that the people
see no reason to object to the ridiculously high heels of their top
boots.
When riding the inconvenience cannot be felt. But
to see the proud possessors of such boots waddle along the road
when
obliged to use their legs is truly comical.
Some seven miles from Zawa I passed the stony bed of the
182 ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN.
Kaia-kash
("
Black-jade
")
Darya, the second main river of
Khotan. Its bed, fully three-quarters of a mile broad, betokened
the great volume of water it carries down in the summer from
the glaciers towards the Karakorum. But at this season the
river, diminished no doubt by the demands of irrigation, finds
room in a single channel, about thirty yards broad and one to
two feet deep. I was delighted to come at a distance of about
a mile and a half beyond upon a second river-bed, that of a
branch of the Kara-kash known as the Yangi-Darya,
"
the New
River." Whatever the age of the designation may be, the posi-
tion of this bed agrees most accurately with the accounts which
Chinese historical records give as to the rivers west of the old
capital of Khotan. The site of
"
Borazan," which I knew to
contain in all probability the remains of this ancient capital,
lay too far off the road to be visited immediately.
In one of the hamlets of Sipa, east of the
"
New River," I
found a garden that offered a quiet camping-ground. While
watching the unloading of my baggage I was not a little surprised
by the appearance from a neighbouring house of a man chained
by the neck to a heavy iron rod of almost his own length. It
was a cultivator who had been sentenced to this punishment
some months ago for grievously assaulting a neighbour. Cruel
as the weight of the chain looked, I could not help thinking that
the mode of punishment had its practical advantages. Instead
of being imprisoned the man could remain with his family and
follow any occupation not requiring quick movements. At the
same time the sight of the inconvenient appendage he has to
carry must act as a sufficient deterrent to others, and the guilt
of the culprit is constantly brought to notice.
On the morning of the 13th of October I was just about to
start from my camp at Yokakun for Khotan when the Beg
arrived whom the Amban, on hearing of my a})proach, had
deputed to escort me. The Beg was in his Chinese gala garb
and had his own little retinue. So we made quite a cavalcade,
even before Badruddin Khan, the head of the Afghan mer-
chants in Khotan and a large trader to Ladak, joined me a few
miles from Khotan town with some of his fellow-countrymen.
I rode round the bastioned walls of the great square fort that
CAMP IX EESIDENTIAL GARDENS. 183
forms the
"
New City
"
of the Chinese, and then through the
outskirts of the
"
Old City
"
to the garden belonging to Tokhta
Akhun, a rich merchant, which Badruddin Khan had previously
taken up for my residence. The narrow Bazars passed on the
way were more than usually squalid. The number of people
afflicted with diseases whom I saw in them was also depressing.
In the garden which lay close to the southern edge of the suburb
HOUSE OF TOKHTA AKHUN, KHOTAN.
of Gujan I found a large though somewhat gloomy house, but
none of the attractions of my Yarkand residence. The maze
of little rooms all lit from the roof and badly deficient in ventila-
tion could not be used for my own quarters. Outside in the
garden there was a picturesque wilderness of trees and bushes,
but little room for a tent and still less of privacy. So after
settling down for the day and despatching my messages and
presents for the Amban, I used the few remaining hours of
184
AKRIVAL IN KHOTAN.
daylight for a reconnaissance that was to show me the imme-
diate environs, and also a more congenial camping-ground.
There is a charm about the ease with which, in these parts,
one may invade the house of any one, high or low, sure to find
a courteous reception, whether the visit is expected or otherwise.
So when after a long ride through suburban lanes and along the
far-stretching lines of mud-built fortifications erected after the
last revolt against the Chinese, but already crumbling into ruin,
I came about half a mile from Tokhta Akhun's upon another
residential garden, enclosed by high walls and surrounded by
ifields, I did not hesitate to have my visit announced to the
owner. Through a series of courts I entered a large and airy
reception hall, and through it passed into a large open garden
that at once took my fancy. Akhun Beg, a fine-looking, portly
old gentleman, received me like a guest, and when informed
of the object of my search readily offered me the use of his resi-
dence. I had disturbed him in the reading of a Turki version
of Firdusi's Shahnama. My acquaintance with the original
of the great Persian epic seemed to win for me at once the good-
will of my impromptu host, and I hesitated the less about
accepting his offer. So when next morning my tent was pitched
on the lawn in front of a shady clump of trees, I again enjoyed the
peace and seclusion of a country residence.
At noon I paid my first visit to Pan-Darin, the Amban,
after the usual preliminaries required by Chinese etiquette. I
found him a quiet, elderly man, with features that seemed to
betoken thoughtfulness and honesty of purpose. His kindly
though somewhat abstracted look and his gentle manners of
gesture and speech impressed me from the first as entirely in
agreement with the reputation for learning and piety which
has followed this Mandarin wherever he was employed in the
province. Dressed in his state clothes and surrounded by
numerous attendants, Pan-Darin received me with every mark
of attention. He had long before been informed from Kashgar
of the objects of my visit, and I was curious to see what his
attitude would be, both as to ex]ilorations in the desert and
my proposed survey of the mountains about the sources of the
Khotan river.
FIRST MEETING WITH PAN-DARIN. 185
To my delight there was no trace of obstruction to be dis-
covered in what Pan-Darin had to tell me as to either project.
He had no doubt that ancient places amidst the dreaded sands
of the
'
Gobi,' if they existed at all, were difficult to reach, and
that the statements made about them by natives were not to
be trusted too readily. In the mountains again the routes were
PAN-DARIX, AMBAN OF KHOTAN, WITH PERSONAL ATTENDANTS.
bad. imphing hardships and risks, and beyond the valleys of
Karanghu-tagh there lay the unknown uplands of Tibet where
Chinese authority ceased, and where, under the strict orders of
the Tsung-li-Yamen, no assistance was to be rendered to tra-
vellers. But apart from these natural difficulties and political limi-
tations Pan-Darin offered to give me all help that lay in his power.
The Amban's simple, earnest ways, his eWdent comprehension of
the scientific objects^j^in view, and the scholarly interest with
186 AREIVAL IN KHOTAN.
which he followed my explanations about Hiuen-Tsiang's travels
and the old Buddhist culture of Khotan, induced me to put
reliance in this promise of help. And subsequent experience
showed me how well it was justified. Without his ever ready
assistance neither the explorations in the desert nor the survey
work in the mountains which preceded it could have been
accomplished.
As soon as I had arrived in Khotan I had commenced the
local inquiries which were to guide me as to ancient sites par-
ticularly deserving exploration and as to the best means for
organising a systematic search for antiquities. Apprehensions
about possible forgeries had prevented me from sending in
advance to Khotan information as to the main object of my
journey. I now found that some time would have to be allowed
for the collection of specimens of antiquities from the various
old sites which
"
treasure-seekers
"
were in the habit of visiting.
"
Treasure-seeking," i.e., the search for chance finds of precious
metal within the areas of abandoned settlements, has indeed
been a time-honoured occupation in the whole of the Khotan
oasis, offering like gold-washing and jade-digging the fascina-
tions of a kind of lottery to those low down in luck and averse
to any constant exertion. In recent years, owing to the con-
tinued demand of European collectors from Kashgar and else-
where, the small fraternity of quasi-professional treasure-seekers
had learned on their periodical visits to ancient sites to pay
attention also to antiquities as secondary proceeds. Neverthe-
less, all the information that could be elicited about such
localities, even from persons who seemed reliable, was exceed-
ingly vague, and I soon realised that if I were to set out without
having before me specimens distinctly traceable to specific sites,
much valuable time might be lost and labour wasted. In order
to secure such specimens, Badruddin Khan, who had previously
rendered useful services to Mr. Macartney, offered to organise
and send out small
"
prospecting " parties. Their return,
however, could not be expected before a month, and I decided
to utilise this interval for the interesting geograj^hical task which
I had already marked out for myself in the mountains south of
Khotan.
PREPARING FOR THE :M0UNTAINS. 187
That portion of the Kuen-luen range which contains the
headquarters of the Yurung-kash or Khotan River had hitherto
remained practically unsurveyed, the scanty information avail-
able being restricted to the sketch map of the route by which Mr.
Johnson, in
1865,
had made his way from Ladak down to
Khotan. Colonel Trotter had, in
1875,
expressed the belief
that the head waters of the Yurung-kash were much further to
the east than shown on that map, and probably identical with
a stream rising on the plateau south of Polu. Captain Deasy,
working from the side of Polu in
1898, succeeded in reaching the
sources of this stream at an elevation of over
16,000 feet, but
was prevented from following it downwards. Thus the true
course of the main feeder of the Yurung-kash, together with
most of the orography of the surrounding region, still remained
to be explored.
The close approach of winter made me anxious to set out
for this task with as little delay as possible, while it was neces-
sary to equip properly the men as well as the ponies that were to
accompany me, for the cold mountain region to be visited. My
camels could be of no use in that direction, and extra ponies
were needed for the baggage with which I was to move up, greatly
reduced as it was. The animals of the
*
Kirakash
'
or profes-
sional caravan men were all away on the Karakorum route,
where the autumn months are the busy time for the trade with
Ladak. To buy ponies for this comparatively short tour would
have been jm expensive arrangement. So I felt glad when the
Amban, on returning my visit the next day, issued orders to
supply me \vith the transport needed on hire from neighbouring
villages.
While Badruddin Khan busied himself with procuring the
fur-clothing for my men and the felt covers for the ponies, I
managed to pay a visit to the village of Yotkan, the site of
the old capital of Khotan and a well-known find-place of anti-
quities of all sorts. It was an interesting day I spent at that
locality, where the accumulated debris layers of the old city,
embedded deep below the present level, are being regularly
washed for gold, and in the course of these operations \ield up
also
ancient pottery, coins, seals, and similar remains. But I
188 ARRIVAL IN KHOTAK
need not here detail the impressions of that first hurried visit
;
for subsequent investigations were to render me far more familiar
with this important site.
During the few days of my stay at Khotan much of my time
was taken up with the inspection of the coins, terra-cotta figures,
and other antiquities that were brought for sale by villagers and
"
treasure-seekers." Most of the bagfuls contained only the
broken pottery and copper coins found so plentifully at Yotkan,
and already fairly well known from previously formed collec-
tions. But their inspection was a useful training to me, and I
thought it advisable to make at first ample purchases so as to
stimulate the zest of professional searchers.
I was naturally on the look-out too for those
"
old books
"
written or
"
block-printed
"
in a variety of unknown characters
which, as already mentioned, had during the last five or six years
been sold from Khotan in increasing numbers to European col-
lectors at Kashgar. In regard to these acquisitions the suspicion
of forgery had before presented itself to competent scholars, but
evidence was wanting to substantiate it, and in the meantime
these strange texts continued to be edited and analysed in learned
publications. Offers in this article were surprisingly scanty at
Khotan itself, and curiously enough the very first
"
old book
"
that was shown to me supplied unmistakable proof of forgery.
Hearing of my presence at the place, a Russian Armenian from
Kokand brought me for inspection a manuscript on birch-bark,
consisting of some ten ragged leaves covered with an
"
unknown
"
script. He had bought it for forty roubles, undoubtedly as a
commercial speculation, and now wished to have his treasure
properly appraised.
I saw at once that the birch-bark leaves had never received
the treatment which ancient Bhurja manuscripts, well known
to me from Kashmir, invariably show. Nor had the forger
attempted to reproduce the special ink which is needed for
writing on birch-bark. So when I applied the
"
water-test
"
the touch of a wet finger sufficed to take away the queer
"
un-
known characters" both written and block-printed. It was
significant that the
"
j^rintcd matter
"
of this manifest forgery
showed a close resemblance to the formulas of certain
"
block-
SUSPECTED FORGERIES.
189
prints
" contained in the Calcutta collection. In fact, my
inquiries indicated a close connection between the person from
whom the Armenian had purchased the leaves and Islam Akhun,
the treasure-seeker whose alleged places of discovery I had vainly
endeavoured to locate about Guma. Local rumour credited
Islam Akhun with having worked a small factory for the pro-
duction of
"
old books." But at this time he was keeping away
from Khotan, and there were reasons to postpone personal in-
vestigations about him.
On the day preceding my start for the mountains I was
cheered by the opportune arrival of my Dak from Yarkand.
The contents of my home mails, despatched via India, did not
come down later than the 17th of August. But the evening
before I had received a letter sent to Kashgar through the
Russian post and thence forwarded with the official Chinese
Dak, which had been written as recently as the 19th of Sep-
tember. No more convincing proof is needed of the compara-
tive proximity to which the advance of the Russian railway
system has brought even this distant corner of Turkestan,
described by Sir Henry Yule in
1865 as
"
the most inaccessible
and least known of Asiatic States." The quotation is from the
great scholar's
"
Cathay and the Way Thither," a work which
followed me every\vhere on my travels, and the reading of
which never failed to provide both learned guidance and amuse-
ment.
MUZTAGH PEAK, IN KUEN-LUEN RANGE.
CHAPTER XIII.
TO THE HEADWATERS OF THE YURUNG-KASH.
At midday of the 17th of October I set out for my journey
into the mountains, after taking a friendly leave of Akhun Beg,
my white-haired host. A five-rouble gold piece, presented in
a little steel purse, as a return for the use of his garden, was
accepted without much difficulty. I was glad to leave behind
in Badruddin's care all stores and other articles not imme-
diately needed. Nevertheless our baggage, including the
survey instruments and food supplies for a full month,
required ten ponies. The first march was luckily a short and
easy one. For about six miles we proceeded south through
cultivated land, dotted with hamlets, to the village of Jamada,
not far from the left bank of the Yurung-kash. Beyond it
the bare Dasht rises gently towards the foot of the mountains,
which now stood clear of the haze that had veiled them at
Khotan.
On the sandy plain south of Jamada I found a
'
Tati
'
with relics of ancient settlement. Fragments of pottery are
strewn over the site, and some villagers brought me old coins,
beads, and a few small seals, one showing the figure of a
Cui)id.
We then rode for four miles over the high banks of
DEBOUCHURE OF YURUNG-KASH. 191
stone and gravel which the river has brought down from its
course in the mountains, and at last crossed to the right bank.
The bed of the Yurung-kash is ov-er a mile broad at this point,
but the water flowed only in a few narrow channels. The
rest is diverted into the canals that feed the villages of the
eastern part of the Khotan oasis. Our night's quarters were
at Bizil, a small village close to the river-bed, where man}'
burrows and pebble heaps showed the working of jade-seekers:
The stone, which has from ancient times been so highly prized
in China, and to which the river owes its name,
"
White-jade,"
is still an important product. As I crossed the river-bed I
thought of the distant lands to which it has carried the name
of Khotan.
Beyond Bizil, to the south, low, undulating slopes of much-
decayed conglomerate ascend towards the mountains. Over
these we travelled on the morning of the i8th of October:
Several ridges, fairly steep on the north side, but joined by
almost level terraces on the south, form natural steps in the
ascent. Gravel and coarse sand, with scarcely a trace of vege-
tation, covers the ground
;
and the landscape, save for the
distant view of the Khotan oasis below, was one of complete
desolation. When the last of the steps was crossed by the
Tashlik-Boyan Pass, I found myself in full view of the outer
ranges through which the Yiu-ung-kash flows in a tortuous
gorge, and greeted with relief some snowy peaks that raised'
their heads above them, far away to the south, A long descent
over a sandy slope brought us to the Kissel Stream, along
which our onward route lay. Half smothered by the dust
that the ponies raised as they scrambled down, we reached
the bottom of the valley at the little hamlet of Kumat. A
narrow strip of level ground by the side of the Kissel and
irrigated from it, supports some fifteen
famihes. It was soon
dark in the deep and narrow glen, and the four miles we had
to march to Yangi-Langar,
our night
quarters, seemed very
long. The night air was still and warmer than in the plain
of Khotan, the thermometer showing
48''
F. at 8 p.m.
On the 19th of October a march of some eighteen miles up
the winding gorge of the Kissel brought us to Tarim-Kishlakj
192 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH.
On the whole way there was no habitation, nor indeed room
for one. The rough path crossed innumerable times the stream
that flows between high and precipitous spurs of conglomerate
and what looked to me like sandstone. In more than one
place there was a difficulty in getting the laden ponies over
the rocks that fill the narrow bottom of the gorge. As this
jumbled mountain mass has never been surveyed, it was
tantalising to wind along between the rocky walls without
a chance of an open view. But there was no time to be lost
with climbs to points that might give one. Tarim-Kishlak
("
cultivated holding
")
consists of a single miserable mud
dwelling amid a few fields of oats. Apart from the small
patch of sloping ground that is irrigated from the stream,
there is nothing around but decayed rock and ravines filled
with gravel. Compared to the absolute barrenness of these
hill-sides, the vegetation of the Hunza or Sarikol glens would
look quite luxuriant.
On the morning of the 20th of October I found the little
stream, by the side of which my tent was pitched, half covered
with ice. The boiling-point thermometer indicated an eleva-
tion of close on
9,000
feet, and the air at
7
a.m. was just at
freezing point. The gorge we ascended continued for another
eight miles in a south-easterly direction. Then the path
leaves the stream which comes from a high mountain capped
with snow, and strikes up a dry side gorge to the south. Here
all trace of rock disappeared from the surface of the hill-sides.
Loose earth and detritus were alone to be seen, with scanty
patches of hardy scrub. Before we reached the pass, a strong
wind sprung up that overcast the sky with clouds and shrouded
us in dust. So when at last by 2 p.m. we stood on the Ulugh-
Dawan
("
High Pass
"),
the distant view to the south was
seen through a haze. All the same, when I had climbed with
the Sub-Surveyor a ridge rising about
500
feet above the pass,
we were rewarded by the sight of a grand glacier-girt mountain
rising in solitary splendour to the south-east. It was im-
possible to mistake the
"
Kuen-luen Peak, No. 5," which the
tables of the Indian Trigonometrical Survey showed with a
height of
23,890
feet. Right and left of it stretched a chain
I
CROSSING OF ULUGH-DAWAN. 193
of ice mountains, but their crests were hidden in clouds, and
our endeavour to recognize among them other peaks fixed
from the southern side was in vain. The wind on the pass
was cutting and the temperature close to freezing-point. By
boiling-point thermometer we found the height to be over
12,000 feet.
I was glad to leave by
4
p.m. the cheerless ridge. The
descent into the Buya Valley, which runs from east to west
draining by an inaccessible gorge into the Yurung-kash, was
very steep and trying. The bleak mountain-side is fissured by
narrow ravines, and the path follows the ridges between them;
The landscape looked wild and lifeless in the extreme. It was
quite dark before we had extricated ourselves from the rocky
ledges that project from the decomposed slopes and lead
ladder-like down to the valley. With some difficulty our
guide found the way to the main group of huts of Buya, but
the straggling baggage animals were much belated, and I had
to sit till midnight in a smoke mud hovel before my tent was
pitched and my dinner ready.
Next morning when I rose I found to my delight that the
sky had completely cleared. In order not to lose the good
chance for survey work, I decided to push on to Pisha, though
men as well as animals seemed in need of a day's rest. The
valley of Buya, about a mile broad at the principal hamlet,
supports from its scanty fields of oats a population of thirty
odd holdings. The level of our camp was close on 8,000 feet.-
To the south of the valley rises a series of plateaus showing
on the surface only detritus and gravel, with conical hills
crowning them at intervals. When we had climbed the crest
of the nearest plateau the whole of the great snowy range
towards Ladak and the westernmost border of Tibet lay spread
out before us. Over the whole chain towered the great Kuen-
luen Peak already referred to, with its glaciers now clearly
visible. The Un-bashi
{"
head of Ten
")
of Buya, an uncouth
looking hillman or
'
Taghlik,' knew the peak only by the
name
of
'
Muz-tagh '
("
the Ice-mountain
").
Apart from
the
glittering
walls of snow and ice in the far south, there was
nothing
to be seen before us but the yellowish slopes of the
13
194 HEADWATEES OF YUEUNG-KASH.
plateaus that mark where transverse ridges must once have
risen. The extremes of temperature, and possibly the ex-
cessive dryness of the climate, with the consequent absence of
vegetation, may partly account for the extraordinary disin-
tegration of the soil. In colour and outlines the near view
reminded me of the hill ranges that are seen when passing along
the Egyptian coast of the Gulf of Suez. The plateaus are
separated by broad depressions in which tiny streams of saltish
water try to make their way towards the Yurung-kash.
Except when the snow melts on the distant mountains east-
wards, there is no moisture to fill these ravines.
Thus we marched for about ten miles to the south-west,
glad that the ground offered no difficulty to the tired ponies.
From a high ridge that crowns the last plateau southwards, I
sighted the broad and partly cultivated valley of Pisha, and on
its other side the ridge that still separated us from Karanghu-
tagh, the last inhabited valley at the northern foot of the
Kuen-luen, our immediate goal. At
5
p.m. I arrived at Kul-
dobe, the main hamlet of the Pisha Valley, where two dozen
or so of Taghliks were assembled to welcome me. There
seemed little in their speech or manners to distinguish them
from the people of Khotan. But their sheepskin coats and
hard weather-beaten faces indicated the difference of the
climatic conditions. Many among them had never seen the
plains. Harsh and bare of all graces are their surroundings.
I wondered whether they ever see flowers such as carpet the
Pamir grazing-grounds.
The 22nd of October was needed as a day of rest for men
and beasts, and I was glad to grant it in a locality where
there was at least plenty of shelter. The sky was heavy with
clouds, and cold blasts swept up the valley from time to time,
enveloping it in a haze of dust. After a morning spent over
notes and letters I went for a walk along the stream through
cheerless fields and with nothing in view but the bare grey
spurs that line the valley. On my return I found the whole
grown-u]) male j)opulation of Pisha assembled in the courtyard
of the mud dwelling where my men had established them-
selves. It seemed that for many years past Pisha had known
I
VALLEY OF PLSHA.
195
no such time of excitement and novel interest. In Hakim
Shah, the oldest man of the valley and father of the local
Yiizbashi, I found an intelligent interlocutor. He claimed an
age of fully a hundred years, and his \VTinkled face and snowy
hair seemed to support his assertion. Though bent by the
burden of his years, the old man was still active enough in
mind, and he talked glibly of the days of early Chinese rule
before the Muhammadan revolt. He had once in his life been
to Khotan, and was evidently in the eyes of his people a man
well-up in the affairs of the world.
My men had been told that a difficult and long march lay
before us. So on the morning of the 23rd they were quicker
than usual about the start. When I got outside my tent a
little after six o'clock I saw to my delight a gloriously clear
sky. The cold was also a surprise. Even at
7
a.m. the ther-
mometer showed
23
F.
;
the little watercourse near my tent
was hard frozen. As soon as we had climbed the edge of the
plateau some
500
feet above Pisha, a grand view opened out
upon the whole ice-crowned range. Kuen-luen Peak No.
5
now lay in full view to the south-cast, and its glacier-crowned
head appeared quite close in the absolutely clear atmosphere.
For about eight miles we rode over a broad, barren plateau that
rose with an easy gradient towards the south. Then I turned
off the track and climbed a high ridge eastwards that from a
distance promised a good surveying station.
Its height,
13,950
feet above the sea, commanded a panorama
more impressive than any I had enjoyed since I stood on the
slope of Muztagh-Ata. To the east there rose the great Kuen-
luen Peak with its fantastic ridges separated by ghttering
glaciers and its foot rising from a belt of strangely eroded bare
ridges, as shown by the photograph at the head of this chapter.
By its side the gorge of the main branch of the Yurung-kash
could clearly be made out as it cuts through the series of
stupendous spurs that trend northwards from the main snowy
range of the Kuen-luen. From the latter the great peak was
thus entirely separatedan interesting observation fully in
accord with the orography of the Karakorum and Hindukush.
There it has long ago been remarked that the points of greatest
13*
196 HEADWATEES OF YUEUNG-KASH.
elevation are not to be found on the actual watershed, but
on secondary spurs detached from it.
The deep-cut valleys and serrated ridges descending from
the main range presented a most striking contrast to the flat,
worn-down features of the plateaus behind us. To the west
the course of the Yurung-kash was lost in a jumble of rocky
walls that gradually sank away towards the plain. In the
north there showed itself as one unbroken mass the gaunt
conglomerate range which we had crossed on the way to Buya,
culminating in a broad, snow-covered peak, the Tikehk-tagh,
some distance to the east of the Ulugh-Dawan. Nature
could not have created a better survey-station than the ridge
on which I stood. With the enjoyment of the grand pano-
ramic view there mingled the satisfaction of seeing so large
and interesting a tract hitherto unsurveyed suddenly spread
out before me as if it were a map. While Ram Singh worked
away at his plane-table I was busily engaged in taking a
complete circle of views with the photo-theodolite. Not-
withstanding the perfectly blue sky it was bitterly cold on
that height, as my fingers soon felt in handling the delicate
instrument.
It was nearly three o'clock before our work was done, and I
was able to hurry down hill. I had noticed how distant the
valley of Karanghu-tagh was where we were to finish the day's
march, and the guides from Pisha had, with unwonted anima-
tion, dwelt on the badness of the track leading to it. After a
comparatively easy descent of two miles we reached the line
where the high plateau so far followed falls off towards the
Yurung-kash Valley in a scries of precipitous ravines. The one
which the track follows at first looked exactly like the gorges
I had seen in Astor leading down to the Indus. High rt)ck-
faces lined its sides, and the withering effects of atmos])heric
influences seemed here less marked than on the ranges passed
northwards. At an elevation of about ii,ooo feet the patli
crossed a rocky neck eastwards, and then led down prccijii-
tously to the river flowing more than
3,000
feet below.
It was just getting dark as we began this trying part of tlie
descent, but even if it had been broad daylight it would have
I
PRECIPITOUS DESCENT. 197
been impossible to ride. The angle at which the path zigzags
down the precipitous cliff was so steep that the ponies could
be dragged forward only with difficulty. The loose stones that
cover the path increased the trouble, while the deep dust in
which they are imbedded at times almost smothered us.
Never had I marched in such a dust-cloud as that which
enveloped us until, after an hour and a half's scramble, the
bottom of the valley was reached at the point where the
Yurung-kash is joined by the Kash stream flowing out from
the side valley of Karanghu-tagh.
It was perfectly dark when we crossed to the left bank of
the Yurung-kash by a rickety bridge consisting of three badly
joined beams laid over a chasm some
70
feet wide. The foam
of the river tossing deep down in the narrow bed of rocks
could be made out even in the darkness. In daylight, and in
a less tired condition, the crossing might have affected one's
nerves more. As it was, I felt heartily glad when I saw the
ponies safely on the other side. Karanghu-tagh means
"
Mountain of blinding darkness," and at the time of our
approach the appropriateness of the name could not have been
doubted. For about an hour we and our tired beasts groped
our way between the boulder-strewn bank of the Kash stream
and the foot of steep hill-slopes before we reached at last the
village that bears that cheerful name. The baggage had
arrived safely, but also with great delay, and thus it was late
in the night before I could retire to rest.
The 24th of October was spent at Karanghu-tagh, where-
arrangements had to be made for men and yaks to take us
further into the mountains. The survey of the previous day
had shown me that the only way by which the source of the
main branch of the Khotan River might possibly be approached
would lie in the gorge of the river itself. The Yiizbashi and
the old men of the little village, whom I summoned in the
morning,
at first denied stoutly that the valley of the Yurung-
kash was accessible beyond the point where we had crossed it.
By-and-bye,
however, I eUcited the fact that there were
summer
grazing-grounds in some of the nullahs descending
from
Muztagh, and then the fact of their being reached by a
198 HEADWATERS OF YURUNa-KASH.
track up the Yurung-kash had to be acknowledged. Of a
route across the main range south, by which Mr. Johnson
appears to have come on his rapid descent from Leh to Khotan
in
1865,
I could get absolutely no information. It was evident
that the hill-men feared the trouble and exposure of a tour
in those high regions. At the same time the serious and very
puzzling discrepancies I discovered between the sketch-map of
Mr. Johnson's route and the actual orography of the mountains
south of Pisha convinced me that I could not dispense with
local guidance. My interest, however, lay eastwards where
the course of the Yurung-kash was to be traced. After a
time Islam Beg, a young and energetic attendant of the Khotan
Yamen, whom Pan-Darin had despatched with me, succeeded
in making it clear to the surly Taghliks that the Amban's
order for assistance to me must be obeyed. So those who
rule Karanghu-tagh set about to collect the yaks which were
to take on my baggage and the men who were to accompany
me.
It was no difficult task, for Karanghu-tagh, though hidden
away amid a wilderness of barren mountains, is a place of
some resources. When I inspected it in the morning I was
surprised to find a regular village of some forty closely packed
houses. The scanty fields of oats below and above could
scarcely support this population. But Karanghu-tagh is also
the winter station for the herdsmen who graze flocks of yaks
and sheep in the valleys of the Uj)per Yurung-kash. These
herds belong mostly to Khotan
'
Bais,' or merchants, and
the visits of the latter seem the only tie that connects this
strangely forlorn community with the outer world. From
time to time, however, Karanghu-tagh receives a })ermanent
addition to its poj)ulation in the j)ersons of select malefactors
from Khotan, who are sent here for banishment.
It would indeed be difficult to find a bleaker place of exile.
A narrow valley shut in between absolutely bare and pre-
cipitous ranges, without even a view of the snowy peaks, must
appear like a prison to those who come from outside. It was
strange to hear the hill-men, who during the summer lead a
solitary life in the distant glens, speak of Karanghu-tagh as
A PENAL SETTLEMENT.
199
their
'
Shahr 'or
"
town." For these hardy sons of the
mountains this cluster of mud-hovels, with its few willows
and poplars, represents, no doubt, an enviable residence.
To me the strange penal settlement somehow appeared far
more lonely and depressing than the absolute solitude of the
mountains.
I was glad to start soon on a climb to one of the steep
TAGHLIKS AND EXILED CRIMINALS AT KARANGHU TAGH.
ridges north-east of the village, which offered a convenient
station for further survey work. But the day was far less
clear than the preceding
one, and the views too were less
inspiriting.
On my return I passed the cemetery of Karanghu-
tagh. The number of tombs it contains may, in view of the
very
scanty population
(barely amounting
to 200 souls), be
taken as a sign of long-continued
occupation. There were
plenty of decayed little domes of mud and wooden enclosures
marking
graves. Over them
rose high staffs, invariably hung
200 HEADWATERS OF YUEUNO-KASH.
with a yak's tail. I counted also two mosques in the place,
and half-a-dozen simple Mazars, where a bundle of sticks
bedecked with rags and yaks' tails marks the reputed resting-
place of some holy man. I could well believe that the dreari-
ness of their earthly surroundings might turn the minds of the
dwellers in this gloomy vale to a happier world beyond.
The information extracted with no little trouble from the
Yiizbashi of Karanghu-tagh and his people about a route
up the main valley of the Yurung-kash was by no means
encouraging. They acknowledged that a little settlement
existed in the Omsha
Jilga,
one march up the main valley, and
that a path accessible to yaks led beyond to a point where a
hot spring flows into the river. But after this no possible
track could be found through the mountains. Whether this
was true or not could be made certain only by personal
inspection. Yaks were to carry the indispensable baggage
and to serve as riding animals for myself and my men. The
ponies which had been severely tried by the preceding marches
were to remain at Karanghu-tagh in charge of Niaz Akhim,
the Chinese interpreter. He had complained of the hardships
previously experienced. It was easier for me to part with
him than with
'
Yolchi Beg,' my little terrier. He had
bravely kept up so far, but the long marches had evidently
told on him, and a rest would give him fresh strength for the
fatigues still before us.
By 10 a.m. on the 25th of October the yaks were packed and
the caravan was ready to start. With each animal I took a
hill-man to guide it. Yaks are as sluggish as they are sure-
footed, and without a man to drag each animal by the rope
which is passed through its muzzle the rate of progress would
be amazingly slow. I arranged that each man should be pro-
vided with food for ten days, and secured extra yaks to carry
these rations. Karanghu-tagh has perhaps never seen so
grand a procession as when my caravan set out on the march.
The whole village turned out to witness the spectacle.
After passing down the Kash valley for about two miles we
struck to the east, and, crossing the spur I had before ascended,
moved into the side-valley of Busat. Not far from the point
GORGE OF YURUNG-KASH. 201
where it bifurcates into two narrow gorges leading up to the
mountain wall southwards, the path ascended a high cross-spur.
From its top, at an elevation of close on 12,000 feet, the glaciers
of the great Muztagh, and all the gorges leading down to the
main stream, were visible in great clearness. So the photo-
theodolite was brought to work again, though the weather was
not as favourable as on the day when I marched to Karanghu-
tagh. Early in the afternoon for several days past I had noticed
the same atmospheric change, a strong north wind rising and
bringing clouds and a dust haze that soon covered the sky.
From the Boinak spur an easy path led down for some
three miles to where the mouth of the Omsha Valley descending
from the west face of Muztagh opens into the Yurung-kash
gorge. The river, which we here crossed to the right bank,
was about
50
yards broad, and nowhere deeper than
3
feet-
Its water had a delightful bluish-green tint, and reminded me
by its limpidity of the mountain streams of Kashmir and the
Alps. I wondered how to account for this clearness of the
water, seeing that the Yurung-kash must be fed very largely
by the glacier water of the Muztagh and other peaks. Of the
large volume of water which it carries down during the summer
months, the broad strips of boulder-strewn ground were a
plain indication.
On the 26th of October I woke again to a gloriously clear
morning, and soon forgot in the rays of the rising sun that it
had been 24 F. at
7
a.m. From Terek-aghzi, where I had
camped by the river-bank, a steep path led up to a long grassy
spur known as Zilan, jutting out from the mountain side
northward. On reaching its top, after a climb of two and a
half hours, I was rewarded by a splendid view of the glacier-
girt Muztagh and the rugged snowy range southwards. Some
four miles to the south-east the Yurung-kash gorge com-
pletely disappeared between the series of stupendous spurs
of rock which descend from the great peak on its left and the
main range opposite. Looking up towards the mighty
southern buttresses o:
"
K.5," and the frowning ice-peaks
showing their heads above them, it required almost an effort
of
imagination to believe that behind lay those Pamir-like
202 HKADWATERS OF YUEUNG-KASH.
uplands in which, as I knew from Captain Deasy's explorations,
the Yurung-kash takes its rise. That there was no practicable
route over the rock-walls through which the river has cut its
way past Muztagh, was absolutely clear from the view before
us. But there remained the chance of the river-bed itself
offering the desired passage. This hope occupied my mind as I
i
*l!*f^lt),(5,^l^ljl|i^
VIEW UP THE YURUNG-K.^SH GORGE, WITH SPURS OK PKAK K.
5
O.N LlCri.
descended by a difficult track just practicable for yaks to the
left bank of the river, at the point known as Issik-bulak,
"
the
hot spring." On the sheer cliffs opposite my camping-ground,
and at a height of about 300
feet above the level of the river-
bed, I could see a hot spring issuing in considerable volume.
The hill people are said to bathe in its water when the winter
makes the river easily fordable. The half-a-dozen herdsmen
ATTEMPT TO PENETRATE GORGE.
203
of Omsha, who had joined me on the way, unanimously declared
that they had never passed beyond this spot, and that the
gorge further up was inaccessible for human feet. Whether
their assertion was true, or whether the formidable ravine
ahead would not yield us an opening, was a question that only
the morrow's exploration could answer.
On the 27th of October a day's hard climbing among the
rocks, shingle, and boulders of the Yurung-kash gorge verified
the Taghliks' prediction. As soon as the sun had fairly risen
over the great mountain walls to the east I started with Ram
Singh, Tila Bai, the most active of my people, and three hill-
men from Omsha. Foreseeing that we should have to cross the
river in the course of our reconnaissance, I had three of the
biggest yaks taken along. At first we followed the steep hill-
side above the right bank where our camp was pitched, as its
height promised a better view of the ground ahead. We had
made our way for about a mile and a half onwards when all
further progress was barred by a ravine descending from a
great height and flanked b}- wholly unscaleable rocks. The
view I had before me was wild in the extreme. I could now
clearly make out the walls of frowning cliffs which, broken
only by almost equally precipitous shoots of rock and shingle,
lined the foot of the great spurs falling off to the river. The
passage left for the river seemed nowhere more than 200 feet
wide, and at places considerably less. The volume of water
reduced by the autumn now filled only one-half to three-
fourths of this space. But the beds of huge boulders seen
along the actual channel were not continuous, but alternately
on the left and right bank. Where the river flowed with light
green colour over boulders and ledges, we might hope to effect
a crossing.
But where it whirled round the foot of sheer cliffs
the water showed a colour of intense blue, and was manifestly
far
deeper. Yet it was clear that our only hope lay in being
able to follow up the river-bed.
To descend to it was no easy matter from where w^e stood.
But
after marching back for half a mile we found a practicable
slope
and managed to scramble down to the edge of the water.
When
the yaks had been dragged down too, with much trouble.
204 HEADWATERS OF YUEUNO-KASH.
we began to make our way up the ravine. A wall of im-
passable rock, with a stretch of deep water at its foot, forced
us soon to search for a ford to the opposite side. This we
found, and thanks to the yaks, which waded splendidly in the
ice-cold water undismayed by the rapid current, we managed
to get safely across. The yak is a difficult animal to guide,
even on the best ground
;
when in the water any attempt to
control its movements would be useless. So it was with a
feeling of relief that I noticed the instinctive care with which
our yaks made their way from one convenient boulder to the
other. The limpid water made it possible for them to see
their way as much as to feel it.
On the left bank we had scarcely advanced a few hundred
yards over jumbled masses of rock that had been swept down
from the slopes above, when we were stopped again by a
precipitous rock-face washed at its foot by the ominous blue
water. To cross over to the opposite bank, where a stretch of
boulder-strewn ground might have allowed an advance, was
quite impossible. The yak we drove into the water to test its
depth was soon obliged to swim, and had we attempted the
passage we should have had to follow its example. In order
to effect a crossing here with the needful baggage a raft or
boat was manifestly indispensable. But how could we secure
it in this forlorn region, where wood was practically unobtain-
able, and where the people had never even heard of that most
useful implement, the
'
Massak,' or inflated skin ?
The only chance of progress left was to take to the crags
above us, and to trust that further on a descent might be
found again to a practicable portion of the river-bed. After a
difficult climb of some 500 feet I managed to bring myself
and my men safely to a narrow flat ledge, but the yaks had
to be left below. We followed the ledge for some hundreds
of yards until it ended at the flank of a ravine that woukl
have defied any cragsman. A careful search for a point
where we might descend again to the river was in vain. The
steep shingly slope terminated everywhere in cliffs that offered
no foothold. Battled in these endeavours, I climbed uj) the
precipitous hillside above the ledge that liad brought us so
FORCED TO TURN BACK. 205
far, in the hope of turning the ravine. But after an ascent of
about 1,000 feet I convinced myself that the ground beyond
was one over which I could never hope to move either yaks or
men with loads.
While I was resting on a little projecting ridge the noise of
faUing stones drew my attention to a herd of wild goats (Kiyik)
that were evidently about to descend from the cliffs opposite.
The tracks of these animals I had already noticed on the hill-
side. They alone are likely ever to have penetrated into the
wild gorge that lay before me. The point where a large
stream from the glaciers of Muztagh falls into the Yurung-
kash seemed temptingly near. Once beyond this junction
there would be less difficulty in crossing the river, and conse-
quently in ascending its bed. Yet there was no hope of
reaching this point until perhaps the river was completely
frozen, an eventuality for which it was impossible to wait.
Even then I doubt whether a practicable passage could be
found, considering the climatic conditions and the masses of
fallen rock likely to be encountered.
All day an icy wind had been blowing down the valley,
giving a foretaste of the cold that might be encountered at
this season on the elevated plateau where, in view of our
survey results, the source of the river can now be definitely
j
located. I did not envy the yaks the bath they got in crossing
j
back to the right bank, and was heartily glad to reach the
j
shelter of my tent at the hour of dusk. The night was cloudy
1
and still, and on the following morning snow was falling on
I
the mountains down to about
3,000 feet above our camp,
!
the elevation of which by aneroid was close to
9,000
feet.
j
Down in the river gorge the temperature at
7
a.m. was a
little higher than on previous days (34^ F.), but as soon as
we ascended by the path we had come before it became bitterly
cold, and the wind was piercing. Winter had already set in
fnr
these regions.
For the return to Karanghu-tagh I chose the route through
tne Omsha Valley, into which we crossed without much diffi-
culty over the ridge of Soghak-Oghil, at an elevation of about
11,500 feet. At the central hamlet of Omsha I found two
206 HEADWATEKS OF YUKUNG-KASH.
low mud-built houses among a few fields of oats and some
troglodyte shepherds' dwellings. The weather cleared in the
afternoon, and I felt grateful for the warming rays of the sun
before he set behind the mountains. The valley of Omsha,
though scarcely a quarter of a mile broad, looked quite spacious
and inviting after the awful gorge of the main river. Notwith-
YAKS CARRYING BAGGAGE IN YURUNG-KASH GORGE, NEAR KARANGHU-TAGH.
standing the elevation of about 10,000 feet, oats are said to
grow well in years when a sufficient snowfall on the mountains
around assures irrigation.
The elevation of Omsha, together with the change in the
weather, made itsoJf felt by a truly cold night. On the morn-
ing of the 29th of October the thermometer at
7
a.m. showed
only
17
F. But the sky was of dazzling clearness, and in
the crisp mountain air the cold had an almost exhilarating
effect. After a pleasant march of two hours we reached the
OMSHA VALLEY. 207
right bank of the Yurung-kash, close to Terek-aghzi. Instead
of the previous route, I now followed the path by the river-
side. It crosses the Yurung-kash about two miles below the
above junction, and then winds along the precipitous cliffs of
the left bank for another three miles. The ups and downs
over slopes of loose conglomerate were very fatiguing, but the
picturesque views of the wild river-gorge amply made up for
this. At one point the river has cut its way through walls of
solid rock, scarcely
50
feet apart, for a distance of several
hundred yards. Elsewhere the vehemence of floods has
excavated yawning caverns from the huge alluvial fans. Not
far from the point where the Kash Valley from Karanghu-tagh
joins this gorge, the path led over a succession of rocky ledges
of remarkable steepness. The ascent indeed looked hke a
huge flight of stairs built by nature along the brink of a pre-
cipice more than
500 feet high. The yaks climbed it with
astonishing
surefootedness, but it was uncomfortable to look
down on the track over which they had carried us.
208
CHAPTER XIV;
OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
Our previous survey, including the expedition up the Yurung-
kash gorge, had cleared up the important question as to the
true origin and course of the main feeder of the Khotan River.
The next and equally interesting task was to map the head
waters of the streams which drain the portion of the Kuen-luen
range south and south-west of Karanghu-tagh, and are mani-
festly the principal tributaries. In the course of my inquiries
from the Omsha herdsmen about dominant points that would
enable me to sight again the series of magnificent glaciers which
feed the Kash River, I had ascertained that there was a difficult
path just practicable for laden yaks crossing the transverse range
north-west to Karanghu-tagh. It was said to lead to the Nissa
Valley, whence a track could be found to the mountains on the
upper Kara-kash River. I was delighted at this intelligence. For it
showed not only, what the Karanghu-tagh i)eople had carefully
hidden from me, that there was a connection with the outer
world besides the route via Pisha, but also that this connection
would take me into a region which had so far remained an abso-
lute terra incognita.
The start for Nissa, on which I accordingly decided for the
morning of October 30th, was attended with some difficulty.
The Yiizbashi of Karanghu-tagh, who had before proved ob-
structive, evidently did not cherish the idea of helping us to
follow a route the knowledge of which he seemed anxious to
keep for his own people. So, notwithstanding the previous
orders, no yaks turned up in the morning. When the man
IN NISSA
VALLEY. 209
saw that I was in earnest and[that further delay was likely to
involve him in more serious consequences than the voluminous
objurgations
to which Islam Beg and Niaz, the Chinese inter-
preter, had treated
him already, the yaks were dragged out
from the
neighbouring
glens. But we had lost two hours
a
long time at that season when night falls so early in the narrow
valleys.
At lo a.m. we started up the Kash stream, and after about
two miles turned into a narrow glen known as Gez
Jilga. When
after a
toilsome climb of close on three hours we had reached
the Pom-tagh Pass, about
12,400
feet above the sea, a grand
view opened to the east and south. It comprised the whole
glacier-crested
range from
'
Muztagh
'
on the extreme left to
the hoary peaks which showed their heads above the glaciers
closing the Karanghu-tagh Valley. No visible point in the
glittering crest-line which filled about one-third of the horizon
could be much under 20,000 feet, while quite a number of the
peaks, as subsequent triangulation showed, reached
22,000 to
23,000
feet. Nearer to the south-west and west there rose a
perfect maze of steep serrated ridges and steeple-like peaks.
Embedded among them, but quite invisible lay the narrow valleys
forming the grazing grounds of Nissa. I climbed a knoll on the
water-shed ridge some
400
feet above the pass, where work with
the plane-table and photo-theodolite kept us busy for a couple
of hours. It was an ideal day for survey work
;
scarcely a cloud
lay on the horizon, and the air, with 50
F. in the shade, felt
deliciously warm.
An extremely steep track, by which our ponies
were led
with difficulty, took us first along a bare rocky ridge and then
down, at least
3,000
feet, by a narrow ravine to the Karagaz
gorge. WTien we had reached its bottom by half-past
four
it was getting quite dusk between the high and precipitous
rock-walls. As we descended for about two miles in this narrow
defile to where it joins the gorge of the Nissa stream, the red-
dish glow of the evening sun that had set for us long before
lit up some towering pinnacles in front. It was like a magic
illumination, this display of red light on the yellowish crags
devoid of all trace of vegetation.
Only in the Tyrol Dolo-
14
210 OVER. THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
mites, and on a smaller scale in the defiles where the Indus
breaks through the Salt Range, had I seen the like.
The Nissa gorge which we had next to ascend was equally
confined, and the darkness which now completely overtook us
made the long ride, with our ponies slowly groping their way
between the boulders of the river-bed or along the narrow
ledges, most wearisome. Here and there in bends of the defile
we passed scanty patches of cultivated ground, with low mud
huts inhabited only during the summer months. The wicked
Yiizbashi who by his delay had caused this trying night march,
and who was now accompanying the baggage, came in for some
blows from my men as we passed the belated yaks, a long way
yet from the end of our march:
When at last we arrived at Nissa, I was glad of the tem-
porary shelter which the hut of the
'
Bai ' of the little settle-
ment offered. My host owed this proud title to the possession
of some yaks and a flock of sheep, and his habitation was but
a mud-built hovel. All the same, it was a cheerful change from
the raw night air to the warmth and light of his fire-place.
The 31st of October we halted at Nissa, The men needed
rest and Ram Singh time for astronomical observations, I used
the day to collect information regarding the mountain routes
that lead to the Kara-kash Valley westwards and towards
Khotan, but found it no easy task
;
for the apprehension of the
trouble that my tours might cause made the hillmen more than
usually reticent. Nissa counts some twenty houses, but most
of the men who inhabit it during the winter were still away
with the sheep and yaks on the higher grazing-grounds. Apart
from a few willows and a bold snowy peak visible at the head of
the valley, there was nothing to break the monotony of the dusty
grey of the rocks and the little plain between them. But the
sky showed the purest blue and the sun shone warmly. So
the day passed pleasantly even in these surroundings.
It is lucky for historical geography that the name Nissa is
not that of a locality further West. Else it could scarcely have
escaped identification, at the hands of amateur antiquaries,
with Nysa, the mythic residence of Dionysus in the Indian Cau-
casus, which Alexander too is supposed to have visited. It
SURVEY ABOVE BRENJAK PASS. 211
amused nie to think of the flights of imagination that would be
required in order to clothe these most barren of rocks with the
vines sacred to the god whom the great conqueror flattered him-
self by imitating in his Indian conquest.
On the morning of November ist I set out for the Brinjak
Pass, which connects the Nissa Valley with the mountain defiles
northward. As I was anxious to utilise the extensive view likely
to be obtained from its height for a final survey of the head-
waters of the Yurung-kash, I decided to camp as near as possible
to the pass in order to secure plenty of time for the morrow's
work. It was not easy to carry out this plan, as the steep rocky
ravine in which the ascent lay was exceptionally narrow. But
at last a point was reached about 12,800 feet high by aneroid,
where the narrow bottom just left room for a couple of tents.
So giving order to pitch the camp here, I climbed the steep
ridge south of the ravine. My reconnaissance showed that a
splendid survey station could be secured by ascending a high
arete north-east of the pass. The piercing cold wind soon drove
me down to my tent, which seen from above in the narrow gorge
looked curiously like a stretched-out bat, the outer flaps touch-
ing the rocky slopes on either side. The interior did not give
ease, for the steep slope allowed the use of neither table nor
chair, and the camp-bed, too, could not be placed at an angle
of less than 25.
Whether it was through the unaccustomed
position or the continual slipping away of the rugs that were to
keep off the bitter cold, I got little sleep that night.
At
7
a.m. the temperature was only
21^
F., and the little,
stream close by was frozen soUd. An hour's stiff cUmb brought
me up to the Brinjak pass, for which the aneroid showed a
height of about
14,000 feet. To ascend the steep ridge previously
singled
out for survey work was no easy task, as the whole of it
proved to be covered with confused masses of boulders and flaked
rock, showing the force with which decomposing agencies are
at work at this altitude. After a few hundred feet the yaks
carrying
the instruments could be got no further. The theodolite
could
not be exposed to the risk of this scramble from rock to
rock,
but the Taghlik to whom I entrusted the photo-theodolite
managed
to follow though with great difficulty. The ridge
212 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
gradually narrowed to a precipitous grat. After an hour and
a half's climbing I had reached its highest knoll, where hard
frozen snow filled the interstices of the rocks.
To the north-east, but separated from us by a great dip in the
ridge, rose a steeple-like peak, the Mudache-tagh, we had already
sighted from the Pom-tagh Pass. To climb it would have been
a stiff piece of mountaineering, even if time had sufficed. This
KUEN-LUEN RANGE, WITH GLACIERS OK-NISSA VALLEY, SEEN FROM BRINJAK.
peak,
17,220
feet high, shut off the view of the second trian-
gulated peak above Buya, upon which we should have had to
rely for theodolite work. But otherwise the view was as grand
and clear as could be desired.
'
Muztagh
'
showed itself in full
majesty, and beyond it to the south-east there now appeared
several distant snowy ridges previously invisible that guard the
approach to the main Yurung-kash source. How should we have
fared between them if the passage above Issik-bulak could have
been negotiated ? Further to the south the line of the horizon
A TRYING DESCENT. 213
for a distance of close on one hundred miles was crowned by
an unbroken succession of snowy peaks and glaciers.
The nearest to us were those at the head of the Nissa Valley
below a prominent cone, for which subsequent triangulation
showed a height of
23,070
feet. But bigger still looked the
ice-streams that descend in a huge amphitheatre above the
valley of Karanghu-tagh. Further to the south-west and west
the steep crags of the Chankul and other neighbouring peaks
shut off a distant view. They were aU gUttering with fresh
snow, probably from that fall which we had witnessed at Issik-
bulak
;
but the beds of snow filling the ravines of the Iskuram
valley enclosed by these peaks looked old, more like incipient
glaciers.
The sky was the brightest azure, and its colour only
heightened the effect of the dazzling glacier panorama south-
wards. Though it was midday and the actinic power of the
sun's rays considerable, the temperature in the shade kept about
25
F. Fortunately there was little wind, so I managed to do
the photo-theodolite work without much trouble. But I was
glad when, after an hour and a half's exposure, I could again
warm my benumbed fingers. The aneroids showed a height of
15,300
feet.
By half-past one our work was finished
;
Ram Singh had been
able to verify by good intersections the plane-table work of
the last ten days. Once back on the pass our yaks could be
used again for the descent northwards into the valley which
drains the Iskuram peaks. But an unexpected difficulty
retarded the descent. About half a mile from the pass where
the track enters a narrow ravine we suddenly came on hard
ice below a crust of detritus dust. It was the recent snow that
had melted in the few hours of sunshine, and had subsequently
got frozen. Even the yaks slid uncomfortably on this treach-
erous ground, and the slopes below the path were suf&ciently
steep to make a shp dangerous. The leather mocassins
('
Charuk
')
of my companions here gave safer foothold than
my boots with Alpine nails worn flat by previous marches. So
I gladly availed myself of their assistance at the worst bits.
Ice and dustthe combination appealed to me as charac-
214 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
teristic of this strange and forbidding mountain-land of Khotan.
But I felt grateful when, after about an hour's cautious progress,
we had got clear of this trying ground. Lower down the ravine
somewhat widened, and just as it was getting dark we arrived
at the little grazing-ground of Chash, which gives its name to
the valley. My tent was pitched on a small plot of withered
grass
;
behind it under the shelter of a projecting rock-wall
my men established themselves. Close by, huddled under the
side of some rock cavities, I found a couple of small felt huts
inhabited by Taghlik families who live here summer and winter.
They owned only a few sheep, and were said to subsist mainly
upon charitable gifts from the shepherds of the Borazan canton
who drive their flocks up here during the summer months.
The ample scrub growing in the valley enabled these poor people
to withstand the rigours of the winter which, at an elevation of
about io,ioo feet, must be considerable.
In the course of the evening four Taghliks arrived from
Mitaz, the nearest hamlet northwards, in response to the
summons sent by my Beg. They assured us that fodder had
been sent ahead to an intermediate halting-place. This was
welcome news, as our supply from Nissa was running out
;
but the hoped-for information as to a route across the moun-
tains to the Kara-kash Valley was not to be got out of the
distrustful hillmen. Every question about localities was met
with a stereotyped
'
bilmaidim
'
("
I do not know "), until
even the stolid herdsmen from Nissa laughed at this pretended
ignorance. It was evident that the arrival of strangers, such
as they had never before beheld or perhaps even heard of, filled
these good people with all kinds of apprehensions.
After the hard work of the previous day I was glad that on
the 3rd of November my men could start late when the air had
warmed up a little in the bright sunshine. For about three
miles we descended the Chash Valley, until it turns eastwards
to flow through an impassable rock defile towards the Yurung-
kash. Our way continued to the north up a narrow side valley
flanked by sheer cliffs of conglomerate. At its entrance we
watered the ponies
;
for the glen higher up is absolutely waterless,
except for a salt spring unfit for drinking. After another eight
VIEW FROM
YAGAN-DAWAN. 215
miles we arrived at the foot of the Yagan-Dawan, and pitched
camp at the highest point where there was still room for a tent
in the steep ravine leading up to the pass. Three bags of ice
had been brought from Chash to provide us with water.
The night, thanks to the sheltered position, was passed in
comparative comfort, and next morning the bright sunshine
induced me and Ram Singh to clamber up the pass long before
the baggage was ready to start. Some of the Nissa men had
bolted overnight, and this caused trouble, for the yak is an
obstinate animal and each wants one man quite to himself when
carrying baggage. That day one man had to sufi&ce for three
or four of them, and the poor fellows left behind were mani-
festly in for a bad time. The Yagan-Dawan proved a very
narrow saddle flanked by steep ridges on the east and west.
In order to get a full view we climbed the western ridge, and
reached its top at an elevation of about 12,000 feet. It
was a splendid survey station, completely commanding the con-
fused network of rocky ridges and deep-cut raxines which ex-
tends between the middle courses of the Yurung-kash and Kara-
kash. We now stood on the watershed between the two rivers.
But the high serrated range we had crossed from Nissa shut off
the view of the great snowy mountains south, and even of the
dominating Muztagh we could only sight the glacier-covered
northern buttresses. So the hope of triangulation was once
more doomed to disapp>ointment.
I shall never forget the view that opened westwards and in
the direction of the distant plains. There were lines upon
lines of absolutely bare rocky spurs, closely packed together
and running mostly from south to north
;
between them, shut
in by unscalable rock slopes, was a maze of arid gorges, of
which the bottom could not be seen. It was like a choppy
sea, with its waves petrified in vN-ild confusion. Far away on
the horizon this rocky waste was disappearing in a yellow haze,
the familiar indication of another region which knows no life
the distant sea of sand.
The impressions gathered in front of this panorama were
heightened
when, after three hours' busy work, we descended
into
the ravine leading down from the pass to the north-west.
216 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANaES.
About 1,50b feet below the saddle the bottom was reached,
and then began a passage of fantastic rock defiles, the like of
which I had never seen. For nearly three hours I marched
between walls of conglomerate and apparently chalky rock
rising thousands of feet above the narrow fissure at the bottom.
As it appeared to me in my total want of geological training,
only the erosive action of water, aided by extreme disintegra-
EKODED RANGES lO NORTH-WEST, SEEN FROM ABOVE YAGAN-DAWAN.
tion of the rocks under peculiar climatic conditions, could have
produced these extraordinary formations. But of water there
was no trace, only ankle-deep dust overlying the detritus. For
the first four or five miles there was scarcely even scrub growing
in these terribly barren gorges
;
animal- life seemed completely
absent. The want of water did not physically distress me, as
it did our ponies and yaks, which had tasted no drop for more
than twenty-four hours. Yet my attention was ever turned to
it in contrast, by the sight of the huge, overhanging cliffs, tlic
THROUGH FANTASTIC GORGES.
217
cavities, and isolated pinnacles, which all looked as if water had
worked them.
Above my head the sky was still blue, and the higher cliffs
reflected bright sunHght
;
yet the gloom of these ravines and
their desolation were depressing. I also knew that my baggage
was painfully straggling, the yaks proving unmanageable with
so few men, and knocking off their loads whenever they found
a conveniently projecting rock. So I was doubly pleased when
after a march of about eight miles from the pass I emerged into
the fairly open valley of Mitaz. There I found still warm sun-
shine and a lively stream from which my pony drank in long,
long draughts. I enjoyed the splash and sound of the water
after those silent dead ravines, and sat cheerfully by its side
until my baggage appeared at dusk. It was pleasant to read in
the tiny seventeenth-century edition of Horace, which always
travels in my saddlebag, of the springs that gave charm for the
poet to another mountain region far away in the West. And
then the question touched my mind : WTiat is this vast mountain
world in human interest compared to the Sabine Hills ? It has
no past history as far as man is concerned, and what can be its
future
?
unless destiny has reserved the prospects of another
Klondyke for the auriferous rivers of Ivhotan.
On the 5th of November our start was late
;
for the men from
Nissa had to be paid off, and it took time before those of Mitaz
had got their animals ready and loaded. Mitaz is a very small
hamlet, and its eight or nine holdings lie scattered higher up the
valley. The latter after our previous route, looked comparatively
open, but in reality the only available track lay close along, or
in, the river-bed. The water, beautifully clear, was nowhere
more than two feet deep. So our continual crossings, neces-
sitated by projecting rock spurs, caused no great trouble except
to
'
Yolchi Beg,' who had to be caught each time and carried
across on horsebacka procedure to which the httle fellow never
submitted in good grace.
We marched this day some sixteen miles down the stream
to the north, but saw no human being, except the children of
a
shepherd
family hving in a httle cave close to where the
Sukosai
Valley runs down from the west. The eldest of four
218 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
children was a blind boy of seven. Smallpox had deprived
him of his eyesight, but he knew his way about the valley, and
I had less trouble than usual in getting from him the local
names of the immediate neighbourhood. The only reward
I had at hand was a silver piece, which he promised to give
to his mother. We camped at the point where an alternative
route to the plains, by the Kunat Pass, leaves the Mitaz valley
eastwards. It was said to be impassable for horses, and its
entrance, a narrow rockbound gorge, looked sufficiently for-
bidding.
At Kunat-aghzi, where the hypsometer showed a height of
only
6,890
feet, and where the temperature at
7
a.m. was just
at freezing-point, I had the feeling of nearing the plains. But
the Ulughat Pass that was still to be crossed had a surprise
in store. On the 7th of November we marched for about eight
miles down the Mitaz stream, when the view to the right showed
us a broad, sandy slope leading up to a high ridge. In striking
contrast to the serrated cliffs of the ranges around, no rock pro-
truded from this uniform slope. Hence it looked far lower
than in reality it was. I knew the optical deception which
made Ram Singh estimate the height before us at only about
1,000 feet
;
yet I was not prepared for the climb that awaited
us. For two and a half hours our ponies toiled upwards in zig-
zags along a slope of which the angle seemed nowhere less than
25
degrees. The soil was gravel and loose earth, the last
remains of rock formations that had withered away during un-
known ages. The longer tlie climb lasted the higher rose my
almost abandoned hope of getting a panorama of the whole
range that would give us at last a simultaneous view of several
peaks already triangulated from the Ladak side. On this
depended the chance of fixing our position with absolute cer-
tainty and ultimately connecting Khotan itself with the Indian
5
Trigonometrical Survey. The great Muztagh, which had again
|
and again during our ])revious climl^s appeared before us in un-
mistakable majesty, could alone not suffice for this purpose
;
and other triangulated peaks on the main watershed we had
been unable to recognise with any certainty as long as we were
comparatively near to the unbroken screen of icy ridges.
A GRAND PANORAMA. 219
It was thus with a feehng of eager expectation that I pushed
upwards. The long-stretched back of the mountain forming
the Ulughat-Dawan had become visible when the slope changed
into a series of less steep shoulders. But a projecting spur shut
off the view to the south and kept me in suspense. An hour
ahead of my people and followed only by Ram Singh, I gained
at last a small saddle in the main ridge. By ascending a broad
knoll to the south I should soon learn whether my hope was to
be fulfilled. So we left the ponies and hurried up. It was a
moment of intense joy when, arrived at the top, I beheld the
grand panorama that suddenly revealed itself. The whole of
the mountain-world traversed during the last three weeks lay
before me, and beyond it a semicircle of great snowy peaks which
had been hidden hitherto by nearer ranges. Far beyond Muz-
tagh we could see glittering ranges in the direction of the main
Yurung-kash source. The glaciers we had passed at the head
of the valleys between Issik-bulak and Nissa were now seen to
be surmounted by ice-peaks of the most varied shapes, domes,
pyramids, and bold steeple-like cones. To the west there rose
a grand chain of snowy mountains encircling the head waters
of the Kara-kash River. No European eye had ever seen them
from the south. Towards the north only a narrow belt of eroded
rocky ridges separated us from the great desert plain and its
fringe, the Khotan oasis.
The sky was brilliantly clear all around, but over the plains
there hung the ever-present haze of dust. It covered and
effaced with its tinge of brownish-yellow alike the sand of the
desert, the river courses, and the belt of cultivated land. Where
it touched the horizon, far away in the Taklamakan, the skyhne
showed a brilliant light green. Yet in height this cover of dusty
atmosphere could scarcely exceed i,ooo ft. For we could clearly
see the foot of the outer range rising above the bed of the Kara-
kash where the latter winds through the low glacis-like plateaus
stretching
away northwards.
It was three in the afternoon when I arrived on this com-
manding
height.
It was manifest that no time remained for
theodolite
work, for which nature herself seemed to have des-
tined
the position, and that we should have to remain there
220 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
for the night. The saddle on the main spur offered a con-
venient spot on which to place the camp, but the want of water
was a difficulty. Fortunately I had foreseen this chance and
sent Islam Beg ahead to Pujia, a village on the Kara-kash.
He had orders to meet us on the pass with fresh ponies and a
supply of water. So when my baggage arrived a little before
sunset, the tents were pitched close below our survey station.
Before this the plane-table had come up, and we eagerly searched
the horizon southwards for points previously triangulated and
shown on our section sheet.
This time my hopes were not to be disappointed. Having
once determined our position on the plane-table, it was easy
to recognise in a great ice-pyramid towering above the Kash
valley glaciers the Kuen-luen Peak No. i of the Indian Survey,
21,750
feet high. Its position coincided most accurately with
the direction indicated by our map. In the east the identity
of another high landmark, the
"
Tartary Peak No.
2,"
was
equally assured, and in order to dispel any lingering doubt,
there appeared in a gap of the Iskuram range the glittering snowy
top of a far more distant peak, exactly where the Survey tables
place the
"
Kara-kash Peak No.
2,"
also reaching close to 22,000
feet. This rapid survey made it certain that it was possible to
triangulate the surrounding region down to Khotan itself with
assurance. The direct connection of Khotan with the system
of the Indian Surveys, on which the determination of its exact
longitude depends, had long been sought for in vain. Yet here
a position within a few days' march from Khotan, to which luck
and, perhaps, a little topographical instinct had guided us, gave
the desired opportunity. It only remained to pray for a clear
sky on the morrow.
The sunset on the grand chain of the south was a sight of
incomparable beauty. Long after the serrated crests of the
intervening ranges had sunk into blueish shadows, the icy peaks
beyond the glaciers which feed the western tributaries of the
Yurung-kasli continued in brilliant sunlight. Then one after
the other shone in rosy tints until the glow became a deeper and
deeper red, to pass away into jnuplc and darkness. At last,
only the grand dome of
'
Muztagh,' with its highest pinnacle
NIGHT ON ULUGHAT-DAWAN. 221
shaped like a Phrygian cap, and our newly discovered Kuen-luen
Peak No. i reflected the Hght of the sun that had long before
set for us.
The changes of colour in the tints of yellowish haze over
the plains were dehghtful to watch. But the increasing cold and
the wind that sprung up from the east soon drove me down to
the tent. There a cup of tea boiled from the water I had
brought up in my water-bottle was for hours the only refresh-
ment my establishment could offer. There was no trace of
Islam Beg and his water supply. But I cheerfully put up with
the prospect of not eating my dinner until next morning, in
view of the result which to-day's work promised. The glorious
sight of the full moon rising below us soon drew me outside the
tent. Her light was as clear at our altitude as I had ever seen it
in India, and showed up every crag and recess in the withered
conglomerate ridges eastwards. She looked as if rising from the
sea when first emerging from the haze of dust that hid the plains,
and her light shimmered on its surface. But when she climbed
high up in the sky it was no longer a meek reflection that lit up
the plain below. It seemed as if I were looking at the hghts of
a vast city lying below me in the endless plains. Could it really
be that terrible desert where there was no life and no hope of
human existence ? I knew that I should never see it again in
this alluring splendour. Its appearance haunted me as I sat
shivering in my tent, busy with a long-delayed mail that was to
carry to distant friends myChristmas greetings. At last, about
ten o'clock, a cheerful commotion in the camp announced the
arrival of Islam Beg and the water-filled gourds he had managed
to get brought up. The supply was small, and scarcely sufficed
for a cup of tea for each man. Nevertheless, Sadak Akhun
succeeded in cooking my modest dinner, and after a last look
at the magic city below I could retire to rest close upon
midnight.
Next day when I rose a little before
7
a.m. the sun was just
rising above a lower ridge to the east. He shone brightly into
the tent, but light fleecy clouds were floating in the sky. For-
tunately the horizon to the south above the mountains was
clear,
and I lost no time in beginning the work of triangulation
222 OVEK THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
on our
"
hill-station
"
close by. It was no easy task to select
in this vast panorama the peaks that were the best landmarks
of the numerous ranges within view and also likely to be recog-
nised again from other positions. But after five hours' steady
work
twenty-six prominent points were safely triangulated. The
light clouds that gathered as the day advanced luckily kept
clear of the mountains
;
but coupled with a breeze from the
north-east they made it cold on the exposed height, for which
the triangulation results have indicated an elevation of
9,890
feet.
I took a round of photo-theodolite views, and then we set
about building a mark to enable us to identify our position
with accuracy from the next triangulation station. No stone
could be found anywhere. So the men from Pujia had to collect
the low withered scrub and heap it up mixed with loose earth.
When I descended to the tent I was glad of a cup of tea. But
even more delightful it was to get enough water for washing
hands and face. A fresh supply had been sent up from Popuna,
the next village north on the bank of the Kara-kash. So even
my men ceased grumbling at the halt on this inhospitable Dawan,
and were cheered by the prospect of our early descent to the
plains.
On the morning of the 8th of November we left Ulughat-
Dawan under a sky of speckless blue. Notwithstanding the
elevation the temperature was a little above freezing-point at
7.30
a.m., an indication of the atmospheric influence of the neigh-
bouring plains. For an hour and a half the path led down steeply
over disintegrated slopes of earth and sand which completely
covered the rock structure of the mountain. Only when close
to the head of a narrow gorge did I see rocks showing strata of
mica exposed. Down the bottom of this gorge, scarcely two
or three yards broad, a little stream of water wound its way.
It was so saline that the ponies would not drink from it. After
a mile or two its water was lost in the ground. For fully three
hours the route led between high cliffs of conglomerate and
slate, until a turn round a projecting screen of rock suddenly
brought us out into the open valley of the Kara-kash, just below
Popuna. It was pleasant to see a stretch of level ground again
DESCENT TO KAKA-KASH VALLEY. 223
and rows of trees in their vivid autumn tints. The valley of the
Kara-kash, about half a mile broad, was bounded to the north
by a bank of gravel some 200 feet high, sloping like a natural
glacis gently away towards the plains. Twice we crossed the
Kara-kash, now a stream of beautifully clear greenish water,
some forty yards broad and two to three feet deep, before
Langhru was reached three miles below Popuna. The village,
though counting only about sixty houses, looked quite a large
place to me after my wanderings amidst the solitary mountains.
I could let my men enjoy its comforts only for a single night.
For I knew that a wind raising the haze would effectually stop
further survey work. So I felt anxious soon to reach another
high ridge called Kauruk-kuz, which had appeared from the
Ulughat-Dawan, the only point in the neighbourhood sufficiently
elevated for a second triangulation station, and at the same
time accessible with instruments.
In order to reach it I started on the morning of the 9th of
November back into the arid range southwards by the valley
which leads towards the Kunat Pass. Against all expectation
this valley proved fairly open for a distance of about nine miles.
Then it contracted to a narrow gorge at a point known as
Kuchkach-bulaki, where a little stream of brackish water trickled
down between the rocks, covering the bottom with a saline de-
posit that looked like ice. The cliffs on either side grew higher
and wilder as we advanced up the ravine, and I began to doubt
whether after all a practicable way would offer out of this maze
of contorted rocks to the high ridge I had sighted from Ulughat.
It was getting dark by
4
p.m. when the highest point was reached
to which ponies could advance.
But to my relief there rose on the left a steep slope of detritus,
much like that leading to Ulughat, and evidently the hoped-for
route to the Kauruk-kuz ridge. Camp was pitched in the narrow
ravine, at an elevation of about
8,000 feet by aneroid. I took
it as a lucky omen that just there I came upon a little party from
Nissa,
who had crossed the Kunat Pass with four yaks and were
now waiting for the flour that was to be brought up to them
from
Khotan, The yaks had tasted no water for the last two
days,
but were all the same fit to help us.
224 OVEE THE KARA-KASH RANGES.
The next day's climb proved a stiff one. The ridge which
I had singled out for our station was close on
3,000
feet above
our camp, and the slope was exceptionally steep. But the yaks
carried us safely over the most trying part of the ascent, and
when after three hours the top was reached, Ram Singh as well
as myself was ready to set to work at once. The view was in
some directions more extensive even than that from Ulughat.
But the sky was less clear, and from the first I noticed an ominous
haze that made me hurry on the observations. It was not long
before my apprehensions were verified. A strong wind, passing
from the plains southward, carried the haze further and further
into the mountains
;
there was no mistaking the dust of the
desert that was threatening to overtake our work. Luckily the
identification of the peaks to which previously angles had been
measured by us, caused no delay, and though it seemed like a
race with the veil of dust that was steadily rising, the round of
theodolite observations could be carried through with all need-
ful accuracy. The peaks in the outer range of hills nearest to
Khotan, by which the longitude of the town itself might be
determined thereafter, were first in danger of being wiped from
our horizon. But we were still in time
;
and when the haze,
two hours later, had also obscured the view of the distant high
ranges above the Kara-kash Valley, all but three out of the
twenty-six peaks requiring triangulation had been safely ob-
served. It was with a feeling of relief that I saw this task com-
pleted
;
for I knew how persistent an obstacle the foglike haze
of this region can prove to survey operations. Had I delayed
but for a single dayand, I confess, there had been strong temp-
tationthe chance of this triangulation might have been lost
to us completely. The triangulated height of the ridge was
10,820 feet.
An hour's scramble down the steep slopes brought me again
into the ravine, where the ponies were waiting. As there was
no water at the camp beyond that which had been brought up
from Langhru on donkeys, I had sent word to my people earlier
in the day to move back to the village. The ponies which had
been left behind for us seemed eager too to get at water, and
j
hurried down the valley at a good pace. But it soon got dark
SUCCESSFUL TRIANGULATIOX. 225
and our progress slackened. In the end our guide missed the
track, and in order to make sure of nothing worse happening,
took to the boulder-strewn bed of the dry stream. It was terribly
bad ground for the ponies, and we all felt thoroughly tired by
the time when a big camp-fire guided us late at night to camp in
a field near Langhru.
15
226
CHAPTER XV.
-
'
ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS AT KHOTAN.
On the nth of November the short march to the village of
Ujat, some eight miles lower down on the left bank of the
Kara-kash, was made in an atmosphere so thick and grey that
I had the sensation of a foggy autumn day somewhere near
London. All view of the mountains, near as they were, was
effaced as if with a brush, and from where my tent was pitched
even the bluff spur just across the river at scarcely a mile's
distance loomed only in faint lines through the dust-laden air.
It was this spur, known as Kohmari, the last offshoot of the
Ulughat range towards the plains, which made me place my
camp at Ujat.
Topographical indications that need not be detailed here had
convinced me that M. Grenard, the companion of M. Dutreuil
de Rhins, was right in identifying Kohmari with the lioly
Mount Gosringa which Hiuen-Tsiang describes as a famous
pilgrimage place of Buddhist Khotan. A Vihara, or monastery,
raised on it marked the spot where Sakyamuni was believed
to have preached a
"
digest of the Law
"
to the Devas. A
cave in its side was venerated as the approach to
"
a great
rock dwelling
"
where popular legend supposed an Arhat to
reside
"
plunged in ecstasy and awaiting the coming of Maitreya
Buddha." The Muhammadan Mazar, worshipped as the
resting-place of the saintly
"
Maheb Khwoja," which now
occupies the crest of the conglomerate cliff rising almost per-
pendicularly above the right river-bank, has inherited the
religious merit of the old Buddhist shrine. It forms a
VISIT TO MOUNT GOSRINGA. 227
favourite place of pilgrimage for the faithful of Khotan, who
believe that the intercession of the saint is most efficacious
when the low state of the rivers makes the cultivators fear a
failure of their crops. On this account official recognition,
in the form of a liberal offering from Amban Pan-Darin, was
said to have recently been accorded to the shrine.
The cave which the Chinese pilgrims saw still exists in the
side of the cliff some fifty feet below the crest. It is approached
along a ledge of rock which contains the semi-troglodyte
dwelling of the Sheikhs attending the Mazar. The cave itself,
which is about
40
feet deep and from 8 to 10 feet high, is
believed to have been the refuge of the saint whom the infidels
killed here with smoke. Thus the legend accounts for the
black soot that covers the rock walls. Pious pilgrims are wont
to sit and pray in the cave, and the fires they light to keep
themselves warm in winter time have naturally left their traces
on the rock, A small upper chamber, approached from below
by a ladder, shows above a narrow fissure running into the
rock. The legend heard by the Chinese pilgrim represented
this fissure as a passage which had been miraculously blocked
by fallen rocks to hide the Arhat.
Apart from its association with Hiuen-Tsiang's visit, the
Kohmari cave possessed for me a special interest. From it
the fragmentary birch-bark leaves of the ancient Indian manu-
script in Kharoshthi characters, now known as the Dutreuil de
Rhins MS., were alleged to have been obtained. M. Grenard's
account shows that the leaves were delivered to him and his
companion on two successive visits to Kohmari by natives
who professed to have found them with other remains inside
the grotto. But it is equally clear that neither of them was
present on the occasion or was shown the exact spot of dis-
covery. The men who sold those precious leaves to the
French travellers seem to have prevented them from a
personal inspection of the cave by alleging religious objec-
tions.
No difficulty whatever was raised in my case. I found
the Mullahs, jovial, well-fed fellows, curiously resembling in
their ways my old Purohita friends at Indian
'
Tirthas,' ready
15*
228 ANTIQUARIAN PEEPARATIONS.
enough for a consideration to show me the cave, including its
mysterious recesses. The close examination I was thus able
to effect gave me strong reason to doubt the possibility of the
manuscript having been really found there. Though the visit
of the French explorers was well remembered by the Sheikhs,
nothing was known to them or the villagers of the alleged
discovery in the cave. Taking into account that other frag-
ments of the same manuscript had been sold separately into
Russian hands at Kashgar, it appears probable that the native
"
treasure-seekers
"
concerned made the statement connecting
their find with the cave simply in order to disguise the true
place of discovery.
In the course of my inspection of this sacred cave I had
occasion to appreciate the easy-going ways of Khotan local
worship. Nobody, however good a Musulman he may be,
thinks of taking off his boots on approaching a sacred spot.
Those who wear a kind of over-shoes with their top-boots
leave them outside, it is true. But the common people not
possessed of such refined footgear freely retain their high
leather
'
Charuks ' (mocassins) or the sandals fastened with
long cloth bandages. The winter is cold in this region, and I
wonder how frequent the occasions are when the Khotanese
really do remove their footgear during the winter months. I
have always managed to make friends with the priestly atten-
dants of Indian shrines, be they Hindu or Muhammadan, and
have almost invariably escaped the necessity of taking off my
bootsa kind of deshabille which for a European is incon-
gruous and inconvenient, without in reality marking in any
way
religious conciliation. But in Khotan there seemed nc
need
even for the little diplomacy which elsewhere is usual!]
required to save oneself this chance of catching cold.
Ujat is a large village, its straggling dwellings surroundec
by
grape-gardens, for which it is famous. The dried grape
and
currants of the place are said to find their way as far
the
markets of Aksu, Kashgar, and Turfan. The vines are
trained, as Ihrougliout Chinese Turkestan, along low fencesj
ranged in parallel lines. The work of covering up the stei
with earth for the winter was just proceeding. The peo])le oi
IN A SACRED CA\^ 229
Ujat seem to have retained for a long time after the accep-
tance of Islam the reputation of being weak in the faith and
addicted to heretical ways. I wonder whether the extensive
cultivation of the \ine has something to do with this.
My local enquiries and the arrival of a long-expected mail
from Kashgar, which brought me home and Indian letters of a
whole month and required early disposal, helped to detain me
at Ujat. But on the 15th of November I marched back to
Khotan by the shortest route, crossing the bleak pebble
'
Sai
'
that stretches from the Kohmari ridge to the southern edge
of the cultivated area near the village of Kosa. I was sur-
prised to find how rapidly the fertile tract towards the city
liad assumed its winter aspect. Tlte long alleys of poplars
and willows stood leafless
;
the same storm that put a stop to
our survey work on the mountains had brushed away the
bright autumn colours which greeted me on my first descent
to the Kara-kash.
At Khotan it became necessary to make a short halt in
order to give to my men and ponies the rest they required
after the month of fatiguing marches. I also wanted time for
the examination of the antiques which had found their way
from various localities into the hands of the agents sent out
on my behalf after my first visit. The small parties despatched
to ancient sites in the desert also turned up with their spoO
during my week's stay. The party which had gone out under
the guidance of Turdi, an old, and as experience showed,
reliable
"
treasure-seeker
"
from a village of the Yurung-kash
canton, had visited the most distant of the locally known sites,
called by them Dandan-Uiliq ("the houses with ivory").
Among the specimens brought back by them I foimd to my
great satisfaction several pieces of fresco inscribed with Indian
Brahmi characters, fragments of stucco relievos representing
objects of Buddhist worship, and also a small but imdoubtedly
genuine piece of a paper document in cursive Central-Asian
Brahmi.
It turned out, on further examination of the
"
treasme-
seekers,"
that the ruins from which they had unearthed these
remains,
and ^which they described as reached after nine
230 ANTIQUAEIAN PEEPARATIONS.
to ten marches north-eastwards
through the desert, were apparently
identical with the site which Dr.
Hedin had seen on his memorable
march to the Keriya Darya, and
which is spoken of in the narrative
of his travels as the "ancient city
Taklamakan." He had reached it
by another route from Tawakkel
on the northern edge of the oasis.
So Pan-Darin, whom I informed of
the results of this reconnaissance,
sent word to the Beg of Tawakkel
to produce the two hunters who
had guided Dr. Hedin on his jour-
ney. On November 20 Ahmad
Merghen and Kasim Akhun, the
men I wished to examine, were
duly produced by the Beg himself,
who had brought them to Khotan
in person. Their examination in
the presence of Turdi, the leader
of my pioneer party, left no doubt
as to the identity of Dandan-Uiliq.
I was thus able to arrange definitely
the programme of my tour for the
exploration of this site, which in view of the specimens secured
by Turdi seemed the best place for commencing systematic
excavations.
Immediately after my return I visited my kind friend the|
Amban, and thanked him for the thorough-going help by]
which he had made my survey in the mountains possible. On;
that occasion I invoked again the evidence of the great
'
Tang-
*
Seng,' in order to explain to
Pan-Darin the object of my
desert journey. When after two days he returned the visit!
I was able to show him the finds brought in by Turdi. Soi
Pan-Darin by ocular inspection became convinced that I hadi
a good guide in the famous old pilgrim, and promised to doj
TURDI,
"
TREASURE SEEKER."
ANTIQUES BROUGHT BY TURDI. 231
all he could to further my explorations. I thought that I could
not more fittingly express my gratitude than by wishing that
the blessed spirit of Hiuen-Tsiang himself might reward the
Amban for the assistance he was rendering me. Niaz, the
interpreter, managed to reproduce this pious compliment
better than I had expected ; for the Amban answered it by
asking quite seriously whether I believed in the continued
existence of
'
Tang-Seng's
'
soul ! It seemed indeed that in
the memory of Chinese Buddhists Hiuen-Tsiang lives like a
glorified Arhat or Bodhisattva. If so, Indian archaeologists
would be still better justified in proclaiming him as their own
patron saint.
I had pitched my tent again in the garden of dear old
Akhun Beg, my former host. But though the place gave the
desired privacy it offered no protection whatever against the
increasing cold. Tokhta Akhun's house seemed too gloomy
and close after the long journey in the free mountain air. So
I preferred to put up for the time with the cold and to stick to
my little tent outside. Many repairs of outfit, saddlery, etc.,
required my attention too
;
for the terribly rough tracks of the
"
Mountains of Darkness
"
and the wily ways of the 'yaks had
caused damage of all kinds. So the saddler, blacksmith, and
tailor were kept busy under my eyes. Vendors of antiques,
bringing seals, coins, old pottery, and similar small objects,
mostly from Yotkan, frequently presented themselves. But
of the
"
old books
"
none were offered. It seemed as if the
particular "treasure-seeker" to whom I had reason to trace
them, credited me with a more inquisitorial turn of mind than
'
was convenient for himand his factory.
But my days at Khotan were taken up not only with these
avocations. There had been since I returned an increasing
rush of people seeking benefit from my medicine case. Patients
from among the local Begs and the Chinese officials could not
be denied, and though my
"
Tabloids
"
could scarcely effect
the wonderful cures expected by these visitors, they evidently
spread my fame as a
"
Hakim
"
throughout the district. From
what I saw and heard Khotan seems to be a hotbed^ofjdiseases
of all kinds. Numerous
''
cases " of a sickening type were
232 ANTIQUARIAN PKEPAEATIONS.
daily brought to me, though rarely was I able to administer
remedies from which I could expect any real good. A medical
man would find here a splendid field of work, but I doubt whether
his fees would suffice even to balance the charities expected
by a large portion of those seeking relief. Chinese mendicants
and'loafers were frequent among mypatients, and their condition
KHOTANESE
WAITING FOR
MEDICINES.
fully justified the requests for a present which were invariably
made after I had attended to their ailments. I wondered
whether the Chinese officials realized how detrimental to tiieir
regime must be the ])resence of large numbers of these destitute
compatriots, living on charity and, no doubt, occasional
loot.
It was manifest that my desert campaign would necessitate
a prolonged absence from the oasis. Accordingly I decided to
MEDICAL FUNCTIONS. 233
make, previous to my start, a thorough examination of old
localities within the oasis itself, with a view to settling its
ancient topography. At the same time I decided to send out
Ram Singh independently for a survey of the high range east
of the Kuen-luen Peak No.
5,
by which the gap could be filled
that was left between our recent survey and the tract explored
by Capt. Deasy about Polu. On completing this task within
about a month Ram Singh was to march to Keriya and then
join me eventually at Dandan-Uiliq.
On the 23rd of November we both left Khotan. Our way
was in common as far as Jamada, the village on the Yurung-
kash which I had passed before when marching to Karanghu-
tagh. I halted here for the night and received a cheerful welcome
from Wang-Daloi, a Chinese acquaintance of my pre\nous visit.
For the last ten years the little Chinaman had lived there,
trading in jade, which is washed from the Yurung-kash bed in
the neighbourhood. He seemed to have ventured occasionally
on speculative jade mining too, but fortune had never shown
him favour
;
for my interpreter told me that he was still a
long way from the sum that might take him back to Peking,
apparently the life ambition of this exile. I found in Wang-
Daloi an intelligent guide to the old sites which extend from
Jamada to the south along the left river-bank, and also genial
company, as he talked a little Turki. Next morning I passed
over the eroded old site known simply by the general designation
of
'
Tati,' forming an area of about a square mile covered
with fragments of pottery. Chinese coins up to the time of
the Tang dynasty are also found, but of structural remains
j
there was no trace.
^
Some six miles beyond we entered the region of the jade-
diggings. On the fiat plain, from half a mile to one mile broad,
which extends between the left bank of the river and a gently
sloping ridge of gravel westwards, the precious stone is found
among the beds of rubble deposited by the river at earher
periods.
Jade is the produce that has made Khotan famous
aU over the east since ancient times. In China it has ever
-
been
valued more than anywhere else, and most of the
information which the Annals of the Celestial Empire give
234 ANTIQUARIAN PREPAEATIONS.
about old Khotan, we owe mainly to the interest attaching to
its jade.
It was therefore with a good deal of interest that I examined
the burrows crossing the barren plain in all directions. For the
first mile or two they seemed to have been deserted long ago, as
sand had partly filled the great hollows. But higher up we came
upon diggings of more recent date not far from the old site
known as Chalmakazan. A vast quantity of pottery fragments,
mixed here and there with bits of broken glass and slag, strews
the plain for about a mile and a half, from the river to the foot
of the ridge. In the middle of this area a low mound, covered
with large stones from the river bed, attracted my notice. Its
round shape suggested a Stupa, and a closer examination proved
this to be true. Unfortunately, others before me had guessed
the nature of the structure, and a large trench run down into
the very centre of the mound showed that
"
treasure-seekers
"
had been at work. The mound in its present condition has a
diameter of about ninety-eight feet, and rises about fifteen
feet above the ground. From the excavation made, it could be
seen that it was constructed of closely packed layers of rough
stones as a base, with a circular wall of similar material above
it. A kind of well in the centre filled with loose earth probably
contained the relic deposit.
There can be little doubt that the old settlement indicated by
these remains was connected with the jade mining of the
immediate neighbourhood. On the southern edge of the site
the jade pits are still worked. For a mile and a half we had to
thread our way between them before reaching the little miners'
camp of Sirik-Toghrak, where I pitched my tent. The pits
vary greatly in size and shape. Usually, a square or oblong
cutting is made through the layer of gravel and river sand.
At a depth from ten feet downwards strata of rubble are
reached, and in these search is made for the pieces of jade that
the river once washed down. Finds of great value occur very
rarely
;
but there is always the chance of sudden wealth, and
this suffices to attract at all times
'
Bais,' i.e., small capitalists
from Khotan and other Turkestan towns. They engage ])arties
of labourers, ten to thirty strong, from among the jioorcst
JADE PITS OF CHALMAKAZAN. 235
of the agricultural class, and set them to work on a digging of
proportionate size. The men receive food, clothing, and six
Khotan Tangas (say two Rupees) as monthly pay. They have
no share in the jade finds, but get extra rewards in case of
special profits. According to Wang-Daloi's testimony, many never
see any return for the money they have sunk in these mining
ventures. Yet from time to time great hits are made. A Kashgar
JADE PIX WIIH DIGGRi, ^'EAR DEBOUCHCiiii OF VURL'Nu-KASH.
Bai, whom I found at one of the diggings superintending his
twenty men. acknowledged that dming the last three years
he had cleared a hundred Yambus of silver (say Rs.
13,000)
worth of jade at an expense of some thirty Yambus.
Though the Chinese administration exercises no control
whatsoever over the jade mining,
"
claims
"
once opened are
scrupulously respected by other prospectors. I saw diggings
which had been left partially unexploited for many years
;
yet I
was assured that the right of the original workers would never
236 ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS.
be disputed. None of the diggings went to a greater depth
than twenty feet from the surface
;
lower down, I assume,
the water from the river would probably percolate and stop
the work. The flat deposits along the river banks for a day's
journey up the valley, up to the point where the latter becomes
a narrow gorge, are visited by jade-diggers. But the work is
carried on only intermittently and by small parties at the
various points which bear the general designation of
*
Kumat.'
Now in the winter months only about two hundred men were
engaged in mining, and even in the summer, when the privations
of life in this barren region are less, the number probably is
not more than doubled.
Quite distinct from this jade-mining, the ancient industry
of
"
fishing" for jade in the river bed after the summer floods
still continues all along the valley above Jamada, just as described
in the old Chinese chronicles. No capital is wanted for this
kind of search
;
so annually for a short period it attracts a
large number of the poorer agriculturists of the oasis, who look
to it as a kind of lottery. Very few find their labours rewarded,
but the hope of turning up a valuable piece of jade among the
rubble is as strong now among the poor of Khotan as it has
been for many centuries.
The Annals of the old Chinese dynasties, from the Han period
downwards, contain many curious data and anecdotes about
the jade
('
yii
')
which made the little kingdom of Yii-t'ien
or Khotan famous in the Celestial Empire. Abel Remusat,
the Sinologist, collected and translated many of these notices
in his Histoire de la ville de Khotan (Paris :
1820),
and it was
a satisfaction to me to read this earliest contribution to the
European literature on Khotan near the very pits which furnish
the precious stone so learnedly discussed in it.
237
CHAPTER XVI.
YOTKAX, THE SITE OF THE ANCIENT CAPITAL.
My
march on the 25th of November to Yotkan, the site of the
old Khotan capital, took me over ground that I had partly seen
before, but the day did not close without a novel, though some-
what annoying, experience. Coming from the south, I had,
within a couple of miles from my destination, passed two deep
ravines, or
'
Yars ' as they are called, cut into the loess beds
by the action of flood water. Though the banks were steep,
the ponies found no difficulty in crossing, and I did not give
a thought to the question how the camels with the baggage
would fare at these obstacles. I reached Yotkan, to which I
had already paid a preliminary visit in October, about sunset,
and selected a suitable ground for my tent close to the Yiiz-
bashi's house, overlooking the area where the excavations of
treasure-seekers have laid bare the soil of the ancient capital.
The best room of the well-to-do villager was quite a cosy place,
with its carpets and coloured Khotan felts, and with a cheerful
log fire burning in the little fire-place. So the time of waiting
for the arrival of the baggage passed quickly at first. The
Yiizbashi's little red-cheeked son kept me company and amused
'
Yolchi Beg,' my faithful follower.
At last, long after it had got pitch-dark outside, one of the
camel men arrivednot with the eagerly expected animals, but
with the news that they had stiick fast at the bottom of the first
ravine and could not be got to move further. So a rescue party
was despatched under the orders of the village headman. I have
reason to suspect that easy-going young man did not move far
238 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN.
beyond the neighbours' houses, but left the task to some myr-
midons of his who managed to mistake the place and never came
to help the belated party. When another hour had passed,
Islam Beg and Tila Bai were sent out into the night. But it
was not until about lo p.m. that the unfortunate camels turned
up at last. An attempt had been made to send on one of the
animals that carried my tent and bedding, with the result that
it slipped in crossing a canal and gave a thorough ducking to
its load. When dragged out of its bath, this camel with the rest
had to be taken by a great detour round the heads of the two
ravines. The late arrival of the party was thus accounted for
;
but the explanation did not exactly console me for a half-wet
tent, and bedding that had first to be dried. It was nearly
midnight when dinner appeared, and some of the rugs had been
made fit for use.
The ravines which proved such an obstacle to my clumsy
camels had little claim to my regard. And yet my archaeo-
logical conscience felt grateful to them
;
for without the forma-
tion of one of them, known as the
'
Yotkan Yar,' that has cut
through the fields of the village of Yotkan, the remains of the
old Khotan capital might have been left buried for ages to come.
From the statements of the old villagers which I tested with care
in the course of my stay, I ascertained that no finds of any kind
indicating that an ancient site was buried here below the ground
had been made, until the time of Niaz Hakim Beg, the first
governor under Yaqub Beg. Two or three years after his ap-
pointment, which took place about 1866, the small canal con-
veying water from the Kara-kash River for the irrigation of the
Yotkan fields began -to cut for itself a deeper bed in the soft
loess, that is, to turn into a
'
Yar.' This is the origin of the
ravine which begins about one and a half miles to the west of
Yotkan at the village of Chalbash, and joins the Yars of Kashe
about a mile to the east of the site presently to be noticed. A
small marshy depression
('
kul
')
formed a little to the east of
Khalche, as that portion of Yotkan is called which lies to the
north of the excavated area, and there the villagers accidentally
came across little bits of gold amidst old pottery and other
petty debris. The latter objects possessed, of course, no interest
WASHING FOR GOLD REMAINS. 239
for them
;
but the gold naturally excited the cupidity of the
villagers, many of whom had, like the rest of the poorer agri-
cultural population, tried their luck
"
prospecting
"
for jade and
gold in the river beds. So they set to wash the soil near the
incipient Yar, and the proceeds were so rich that they came to
the governor's knowledge.
Niaz Hakim Beg was an administrator of considerable enter-
NORTH-WEST CORNER OF EXCAVATED AREA AT YOTKAN, WITH ENTRANCE
TO
'
YAR.'
prise. He sent to Yotkan large parties of diggers from Kara-
kash tovm whom he employed like the men working in the jade
pits. The owners of the fields which were gradually cut away
by these
"
washings," received compensation. Subsequently
the excavations were continued by private enterprise, the usual
arrangement being that the owners of the soil and the diggers
-hare the proceeds equally. The earth excavated from the
banks has to be washed, just like the river deposit. The larger
240 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN.
supply of water needed for this purpose caused the Yotkan canal
to cut its bed deeper and deeper and to form the extant Yar,
the bottom of which is from twenty to thirty feet below the
ground level. Finally the canal had to be diverted to a higher
level, but springs came to the surface at the bottom of the ravine,
and these account for the swampy condition of the excavated
area. In the recollection of old villagers the land of Yotkan
was everywhere a level flat ; there were no springs or swampy
groundnor any knowledge or tradition of the
"
old city
"
below.
Former travellers, who paid to Yotkan only a flying visit,
have spoken of "the frightful ravages in the soil" and attri-
buted them to some extraordinary flood catastrophes of which,
it is true, they were unable to trace any recollection. But in
reality the great extent of the excavated area which forms, as
my careful survey showed, an irregular oblong of more than half
a square mile, is almost exclusively due to systematic digging
and washing for gold, as it still continues to this day on the north
and west sides. The banks there are yielding a small but
"
pay-
ing
"
quantity of gold, and in recent years antiques, such as
ornamented fragments of pottery, engraved stones, and coins
have come to be counted as a kind of secondary product. The
gold is usually found in tiny flakes of leaf-gold, of which I was
able to secure samples. It is easily distinguished by the villagers
from the gold-dust
(*
kepek-altiin
')
washed from the river-beds.
No gold coins or solid ornaments of gold and silver are admitted
to have been found. But I have my doubts on this point, as
the villagers or miners would have reason to be reticent about
such finds. In any case it is acknowledged that during the first
j
years and near the original spot the workings yielded rich quan-
tities of gold. I myself subsequently purchased at Yotkan
tiny figure of solid gold of excellent workmanship, representing
monkey, that had been found during the year's washings. Larger
articles of this kind are doubtless melted down speedily after]
discovery.
It seems at first difficult to account for the prevalence of golc
in the form described and over sc large an area. But the use
of leaf-gold on an extensive scale in the decoration of statues]
ANCIENT COINS AND POTTERY. 241
and buildings offers a probable explanation. From the detailed
description which the earher Chinese pilgrim Fa-hien gives of
the splendid Buddhist temples and monasteries he saw on his
c
ANTIQUES FROM YOTKAN.
A Terra-cotta head. B
Relievo in ivory. C Fragment
of
relievo in
stone showing seated Buddha ; also atuietu Khotan and Chinese
coins. D Terra-cotta vase with monkey-shaped handle. E Piece
of
decorated Txtse. (Scale one-half of originals.)
visit to Khotan (circ.
400
a.d.), it is certain that not only images
but many parts of sacred buildings
were richly overiaid \Wth
leaf-gold.
Much of this must have fallen off and mingled with
16
242 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN.
the dust when these structures crumbled away, not to be re-
covered until the soil could be washed by the method now
followed;
The stratum from which this gold is obtained consists of
decomposed rubbish
and humus, in which
are embedded frag-
ments of ancient
pottery, plain or
ornamented, bones of
animals, pieces of
much decayed wood,
and ashes, all indica-
tions that we have
here the debris that
accumulates on a site
occupied by buildings
for centuries. The
copper coins, which
are found plentifully,
range from the bilin-
gual pieces of the
indigenous rulers,
showing Chinese
characters as well as
early Indian legends
in Kharoshthi, struck
about the commence-
ment of our era,
to the square-holed
issues of the Tang dy-
nasty
(618-907
A.D.)-
The stratum which
represents the deposits of these and possibly also of earlier cen-
turies, shows a uniform brownish colour, but varies in thickness.
On the south and west it is on the average from five to eight feet
deep. But on the north of the excavated area, the banks worked
immediately below the houses of Khalche, where the proceeds
I I
!
1: \
'
! ; \ !h,l IxIN I'S FROM YOTKAN.
(Monkeys playing nnisical instruments, eating,
&c. Scale two-thirds of original.)
SILT OVER CULTURE-STRATA. 243
in antiques, such as terra-cotta figurines, seals, etc., are richest,
show a
"
culture-stratum
"
thirteen to fourteen feet thick. It
is evident that this varying depth is due to the different length
of the periods during which particular localities were occupied,
and to the different character of the uses to which they had been
put. The frequency of pottery fragments and of bones also
varies at different points.
But in one respect all portions of the
"
culture-strata
"
ex-
posed show a regrettable uniformity
;
nowhere did I come upon
traces of remains of buildings, nor could I hear of such having
been found during previous excavations.
\
This is easily
accounted for by the fact that, owing to the total absence of
suitable stone, sun-dried bricks and clay supplemented by timber
must have been in old days, just as now, the only obtainable
materials for the construction of houses in the Khotan region.
Whatever of the mud walls of buildings had not crumbled into
dust, was bound to decay completely in the course of the cen-
turies during which the site was taken up for cultivation and
the soil kept constantly moist by the percolation of irrigation
water. The same fate overtook whatever of the wood once
contained in the buildings had not been extracted and utilised
by successive occupiers of the soil. It might have been different
if the old town had been overwhelmed by some sudden catas-
trophe and its site left deserted. Then we should expect to
find under the ruins the original materials preserved in a recog-
nisable form. But there is nothing to support the assumption
of such a catastrophe.
The strata containing the old remains are everywhere covered
by a considerable layer of alluvium from nine to twenty feet
thick at various points. This layer, which by its light colour is
easily distinguished from the "culture-strata" below and is
absolutely free from remains indicating subsequent occupation
of the site, interested me greatly. Some of the earUer European
visitors to Yotkan have hazarded the assumption that the thick
cover of earth under which the relics of the old town are hidden
was due to a great flood, and they accordingly attributed its
1
destruction
to this supposed catastrophe. But a few hours'
careful
examination of the excavated banks sufiiced to dispel
16*
244 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN.
such a notion once for all. Nowhere did I find the slightest
trace of that stratification in the soil which such a flood or
series of floods would necessarily have left behind. At every
point the earth immediately above the
"
culture-strata
"
proved
exactly the same in substance and colour as that which is to-day
turned up by the plough of the Yotkan cultivator.
What, then, is the explanation of this deep cover under
which the remains of this old town have rested ? I think it is
not far to seek. Cultivation in Khotan, as everywhere else in
Turkestan, demands constant and ample irrigation
;
and as the
river from which the water for the Yotkan fields is drawn in
the spring and summer carries down enormous quantities of
disintegrated soil from the mountains, the accumulation of silt
over the fields on which the earth thus suspended is ultimately
deposited, must be comparatively rapid. Thus the level of the
cultivated portions of the oasis is bound to rise steadily
;
and
considering how near these lands are to the region where the
river collects most of this silt on its passage through the outer
ranges, the thickness of the deposit left during a thousand years
can by no means surprise us.
Observations I had occasion to make again and again after
my first visit to Yotkan fully supported this explanation. Every-
where in the oasis I noticed that the main roads were sunk
considerably below the surrounding level where they pass through
cultivated land, while elsewhere, on waste or within the village
areas, they kept flush with the adjoining ground. This low
position of the roads is so uniformly observable and so marked
that it is impossible not to seek for a natural cause. And none
I could think of seemed more probable than that the level of
the fields is constantly rising by irrigation, while that of the
roads cannot undergo any marked variation. This
observation
led me to notice an equally characteristic factthe low jiosition
of all the old cemeteries that are surrounded by fields.
Cenit
teries of^^any age are easily distinguished by their extendiiiji
around some Mazar or shrine, and in their case I invariably found
a ground-level considerably below that of the neighbouring
fields. This curious fact becomes easily intelligible if we
re-
member that the fields are continually recefving a deposit
oi
POSITION OF SA-MO-JOH CONVENT. 245
silt from irrigation, while the cemeteries are naturally kept clear
of water and consequently of this accretion.
The Yar which passes through Yotkan from west to east,
and the excavations of the gold washers to the south of it, enable
us to form some idea as to the position and extent of the old
town. The banks of the Yar cease to jield any remains about
200 yards below the houses of Khalche. Accordingly, digging
has stopped there. In the south the diggings near the portion
of Yotkan known as Allama have been discontinued, as the
ground did not yield the coveted gold in paying quantities. It
is on the banks to the west and north-west that the work of
washing the soil still continues vigorously, and it is under the
fields lying in that direction that the remaining parts of the old
town are likely to have been situated. The Yars which intersect
the ground to the south and east of Yotkan nowhere cut through
layers containing old remains. The negative evidence thus fur-
nished excludes the idea of the town having ever extended in
those directions.
There can be no doubt that the site discovered under the fields
of Yotkan is that of the old capital of Khotan, as already sug-
gested by M. Grenard. The proof, however, does not lie in an
alleged tradition of the villagers (this could only be a very modern
growth if it really existed), but in the exact agreement of the
site with the topographical indications furnished by the early
Chinese Annals, and in the ease with which I was able to identify
from this starting-point the positions assigned by Hiuen-Tsiang's
narrative to the most prominent Buddhist shrines he visited
in the vicinity of the capital.
On the morning of the 28th of November I started on a survey
of the villages to the west of Yotkan, in order to trace, if possible,
the positions of these sacred places. Nearest among them was
the Stupa and convent of
'
Sa-mo-joh
'
which the pilgrim visited
it a distance of five or six li (a little over a mile) to the west of
he city. It was founded in honour of an Arhat who had by
/arious miracles won the special worship of one of the first
luddhist
kings of the country. Under its Stupa, which was a
undred feet high, a great collection of sacred relics from
uddha's body had been deposited. Fa-hien also, two and a
246 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN.
half centuries earlier, had seen this monastery, and describes
"
the magnificent and very beautiful hall of Buddha
"
that rose
behind its Stupa.
Judging from what previous experience has
taught me of the fate which has overtaken all ancient structures
within the cultivated area of the oasis, I did not expect to find
remains of what was undoubtedly only a pile of sun-dried bricks
doomed to rapid decay. All the more delighted was I when
among the villages westwards I heard the name of Somiya
mentioned. Other phonetic analogies prove that this repre-
sents the direct derivative of the ancient local name which is
intended by the Chinese transcription of
'
Sa-mo-joh,' and to
the evidence of the name there was soon added topographical
confirmation.
Leaving the excavated area of the ancient city at its north-
west corner, I reached first the hamlet of Eskente half a mile
to the west. There I was told of a
'
Dobe ' or mound that
exists near the cemetery of Somiya. The latter place I found to
be situated only three-fourths of a mile further west, and to
consist of some thirty scattered dwellings. I went at once to
the local Mazar, which is surrounded by an extensive cemetery,
and on asking for the
'
Dobe
'
was taken to a field adjoining its
north-eastern corner. A little low mound, rising scarcely five
feet above the surrounding ground, is respected by the
villagers
with a kind of superstitious fear, though it shares in no orthodox
way the sacred character of the neighbouring Mazar and ceme-
tery. I soon had the oldest men of the village summoned to
the spot, and in what they told me of the mound we may, I
think, yet trace the last lingering recollection of the ancient
shrine that has left its name to Somiya. Shami Sope, a withered
old man of about ninety, had heard from his father and grand-
father, who had both died at a great age, that the little mound
had ever been respected by the folk of Somiya as a hallowed s])ot
not to be touched by the plough-share. Some unknown saint
is supposed to have sat at the spot, and evil would befall
thost
who should touch the ground. The name of the saint is forgotten
and the villagers would not assert whether he rests under tin
mound or not. But the people of Somiya never pass withoui
saying a prayer, and according to the testimony of Shami
Sojh
OLD LOCAL WORSHIP.
247
and his forbears, they have clung to this custom for the last two
centuries.
I take it as a sign of the antiquity of the tradition that no
name is assigned to the saint whose memory lingers about the
'
Dobe,' whereas the names of the three Mullahs who are sup-
posed to sanctify the Mazar of the \allage are currently known
to young and old. Nobody seemed to know of any other spot
similarly surrounded with superstitious awe in the neighbour-
hood. Considering the concordant evidence of the name and
position of Somiya, I think it highly probable that the worship
of this nameless mound is the last trace left of the
'
Sa-mo-joh
'
Stupa of Buddhist days. And if this assumption be correct, we
have here another proof of the tenacity of local worship which in
Khotan, as elsewhere in the East, has survived all changes of
creed.
The day's search enabled me to identify in all probability yet
another sacred site mentioned by the Chinese pilgrims. Hiuen-
Tsiang saw at a distance of ten li (two miles) to the south-west
L
V
248 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN.
of the capital the monastery of
'
Ti-kia-po-fo-na,' which was
distinguished by the possession of a miraculous statue of
Buddha. The name in this case can no longer be traced, but
exactly in the direction and at the distance indicated there
lies the popular Ziarat of
'
Bowa-Kambar
'
visited by people
from all parts of the Khotan district. I found it to consist of a
large square cemetery enclosing the high mud tomb of the saint,
who is supposed to have acquired holiness as the groom of
'
Ali
Padshah,' The level of the cemetery lies some twelve feet
below the surrounding fieldsa certain indication of its anti-
quity according to my previously detailed observations. A grove
of fine old trees faces the eastern entrance, and a row of booths
testifies to the popularity of the fairs which take place here at
the time of pilgrimages.
It was dark when I returned from Bowa-Kambar, else I
should have paid another visit to the still more popular shrine
of Imam Musa Kasim at Kosa, which I had already passed on
my way from Ujat. Its position due south of Yotkan makes
me suspect that it has taken the place of the Virochana-Sangha-
rama which was famous in the days of Hiuen-Tsiang as one
of the earliest sanctuaries of Buddhism in Khotan. Its distance,
a little over three miles from Yotkan, is somewhat in excess of
the ten li south of the capital which the pilgrim indicates as its
position. But then we do not exactly know the extent of the
old city, and in any case there is no shrine of any note due south
of Yotkan that comes nearer to the distance indicated.
On the 29th of November I left Yotkan to return to Khotan
town, where the preparations for my desert journey were now
urgently calling me. It was a misty cold morning as I bade
good-bye to my host the Yiizbashi and rode along the Yotkan
Yar eastwards. About two miles from the village I crossed by
a bridge the fairly deep stream formed by the united waters of
the Yars of Yotkan and Kashe, and on the other bank of the
ravine reached the lands of Halalbagh, a collection of large
hamlets which I was anxious to see once more, as a local tradition
connects the site with the ine-Muhammadan rulers of the
country. Close to the central hamlet there stretches a marsh,
known as Aiding-kul, coverii)g about a square mile. It is over-
I
THE AIDING-KUL MARSH. 249
grown with reeds and fed by copious springs which form quite
a little stream at the northern end where the marsh drains
towards the Yurung-kash.
Islam Beg secured me here a very intelligent guide in the
person of Ibrahim Mullah, a man well known for his learning
and piety. Though eighty-six years old at the time of my visit,
he was still quite active. His comfortable embonpoint and his
showy silk dress well-lined with fur showed plainly that, despite
Koran and pilgrimages, he had not neglected the good things of
this world. Ibrahim Mullah owns Turki
*
Taskiras
'
of the
varous Imams who are worshipped at the most ix)pular of
Khotan Mazars, and soon showed me in them chapter and verse
for his assertion that it was at Halalbagh that there once stood
the city of the
'
Khalkhal-i Chin-u-Machin,' the legendary
heathen ruler of Khotan. According to the popular tradition
recorded in these texts, the four Imams whose blessed bodies
now rest in a famous Mazar at Hasha, killed this opponent of
Islam, and his city became a waste. The shrine of Kum-i-
Shahidan, about half a mile to the west of the marsh, is supposed
to mark the spot where three hundred and sixty faithful fol-
lowers of the Imams found martyrdom in the final struggle.
According to Ibrahim Mullah, Mirza Abu-Bakr, the ruler of
Kashgar and Khotan in the early part of the sixteenth century,
had the old site excavated for the sake of its hidden treasures.
He brought river-water to the place to enable his workmen
to wash the soil
on the 27th and 28th of March the air about midday was
88
Fahr. in the shade, though the minimum thermometer had for
the corresponding nights stUl registered
28
and
30 Fahr.
':^
7,
m-^
-jr_-
IN A KHOTAN BAZAR.
CHAPTER XXXIIj
LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS:
r\
.*WL j:^
On the 27th of April I paid my farewell visit to the Khotan
Yamen with sincere regret. It meant good-bye to Pan-Darin,
who had proved in every way a true friend to me. He was
unmistakably a man of the old school, not over fond of Western
notions and influences. Yet from my first visit I felt that he
understood my scientific aims and was ready to further them.
I soon grew fond of his quiet, unaffected ways, which seemed
to express so plainly his personal character. As an adminis-
trator this learned old gentleman may have his shortcomings.
But all my native informants were unanimous in praising his
integrity and genuine kindness. So I hoped that the literary
DEPARTURE P'ROM KHOTAN TOWN. 461
attainments of my Mandarin friend would carry weight at
Urumchi, whither he was shortly to retire, and would secure
him some comfortable appointment, maybe the Taotai-ship of
Kashgar.
On my way back I treated myself to a last long ride through
the Khotan Bazars. It was the Saturday market of the
"
Old
Town," and its long central street was overflowing with buyers
and sellers. A glorious sunshine, pouring through the shaky
tattered awnings that connect the houses and shops flanking the
street, gave brilliancy to all the gaudy wares exhibited in the
booths from which I selected mementoes. The old skill of the
Khotan workmen still shows itself in the quaint articles of dress
which form a prominent feature of the Bazar stores. But the
universal use of aniline dyes seems, here as elsewhere in the East,
to have destroyed the old sense of colour harmony. The capital
of Khotan is indeed a small place, and in the course of my ride
I revisited almost every picturesque lane and quaint mosque
I knew from my stay in the autiunn. After the long months
in the desert I found a strange pleasure in seeing humanity again
surging around me. But more than anything else the beautiful
green of the young foliage which intruded everywhere into the
lanes and the deep blue sky helped to throw lustre on my last
impressions of Khotan.
On the following morning I said good-bye to Nar-Bagh. I
had started off my heavy baggage under Ram Singh's charge
four days earlier for Yarkand. So the final departiire was not
so troublesome an affair as starts on new journe3's usually are in
Turkestan. All the same I was kept hard at work \rith leave-
taking from local acquaintances who came to see me off, with
the distribution of medicines for cases actual and prospective
among my friends' families, andlast but not leastthe dis-
pensing of
"
tips." Chinese Turkestan is a country where
services whether large or small must be compensated by
"
tips
"
just as much as in the best conducted hotels of European centres
of civilisation. Attendants of the Yamen who had been deputed
to look after my camp
;
visitors who had helped in collecting
information or antiques : Yiizbashis who had arranged for supplies,
et hoc genus om;zt', had to receive appropriate tokens of mysatis-
462 LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS.
faction. Expensive in a way as this system is, it saves needless
circumlocution and gSne. There is no need to disguise one's
"
tips
"
in the form of presents, or to press them into hands that
for the sake of appearances pretend to refuse them. Silver or
gold, as the case may be, is accepted with the same unblushing
readiness which seems to have been the proper style at Indian
courts before European notions effected a changeon the
surface. Of course, little souvenirs are not rejected by one's
Turkestan friends. But what marks the value of services ren-
dered, and is mainly looked for, is hard cash.
My march of the first day was only a short one. I did not
wish to leave Khotan without a farewell visit to the site of the
ancient capital, Yotkan. The road I followed was the same by
which I had returned from that spot on a gloomy and cold
November day. But what a glorious change in the landscape !
Riding through the hamlets clustering in the fertile cantons of
Tosalla and Borazan, there was nothing but deliciously green
fields and orchards to rest one's eyes on. The first crop of lucerne
!
was already standing high
;
the avenues of poplars, mulberry-
trees, and willows had decked themselves with the richest foliage,
and since the unusual rain that had fallen during my stay in
Nar-Bagh scarcely any dust had had time to settle on the young J
leaves. It was a delightful ride which showed me the oasis'
under its prettiest aspects. When more open ground was
reached beyond Halalbagh, the whole range of the great moun-
tains burst into view. Quite clearly I saw the heights of Ulughat-
Dawan and Kauruk-kuz where we fixed our triangulation sta-
tions. Beyond them, to my surprise, the icy ridges which form
the watershed towards the sources of the Karakash showed
themselves in rugged splendour. The inhospitable mountains
through which I had toiled in November seemed thus to send me
a farewell greeting. Their grand panorama was the finest
setting for the last views I carried away with me of this strange
little world between the desert and the mighty Kuen-luen.
At Yotkan, where I pitched my tent once more in the pretty
orchard below the Yiizbashi's house, I was busy collecting
samples of soil from the different strata which contain the
ancient deposits and the silt that has buried them. I was, also,
LAST VISIT TO YOTKAN. 463
able to acquire an additional number of ancient coins, seals,
teira-cottas, etc., the owners of which had not come forward
on the former occasion. The most notable of these antiques
was a tiny statuette in solid gold, representing a sitting monkey
of exactly the same style and attitude as frequently found
among the terra-cotta figurines from the same site.
On the morning of the 29th of April I left Yotkan for the
canton of Kara-kash, which forms the north-western edge of
the oasis. I had not found a previous opportunity to visit it,
and had now an ad-
ditional reason to look
it up before my final
departure. Islam Beg,
my faithful
'
Darogha
'
of the days of Karanghu-
tagh and Dandan-Uiliq,
had since been ap-
pointed one of the Begs
of Kara-kash.
Rightly
or wrongly, he attri-.
buted his good fortune
to my recommendation
with the Amban.
So
he was anxious
to show
me Kara-kash,
both
as
his native place and the
present sphere of his
official functions.
Both
he and Badruddin
Khan,
the Afghan
Aksakal,
had
followed me from
Khotan and claimed the privilege
of keeping
me company up to the very border
of the oasis.
The weather kept bright and clear, and made the
day's ride
most enjoyable. In the early
morning
we passed through
Bizin,
the
market-place of the
Borazan tract, on the high-road
that
leads from Zawa to Khotan.
It was Monday, the local market-
day, and the long
rows of booths and shops
were
already
thronged with villagers.
But a sight more curious to me was
BADRUDDIN
KHAN AND AFGHAN
TRADER,
KHOTAN.
464 LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS.
the long stream of petty traders whom we passed along the
country tracks leading from Kara-kash to Bizin. The weekly
market of Kara-kash had been held on the preceding day, and
the same traders who had then exhibited their wares there were
now hurrying on to Bizin. Badruddin Khan, who usually
himself shares these migrations, explained to me the system by
which the week-days are divided between the seven main Bazars
of the oasis. The
"
Old " and
"
New " towns of Khotan,
Yurung-kash, Sampula, Imam Musa Kasim, Bizin, and Kara-
kash have each a weekly market day, and as the distances are
not great and the succession of the several local markets is con-
veniently arranged, the traders make it a point to attend all
these markets in turn. Ponies carry the bales containing the
migratory
"
shops," and, balanced on the top of the loads, their
owners and assistants. Thus that morning the greater part
of the petty trading community of Khotan passed me as it
were on review. Badruddin Khan knew them all well, goods,
ponies and men, and had much to tell of their financial fortunes
and personal characters.
I was surprised at the number of foreigners whom we met
among these hurrying traders. There were Kabulis and
Bajauris, men from Pishin in Baluchistan, and plenty of Andi-
janis. A few Kashmiris, too, I saw in the straggling procession,
but the greeting I addressed to them in familiar
'
Kashiir
kath
'
(Kashmiri) met with no response. They were the sons
of emigrants settled in Yarkand, and had forgotten their fathers'
tongue. Among the Afghans, too, it is rare that the children
know anything of Persian or Pushtu. Once more I had occasion
to reflect on the great power of assimilation exercised by the
Turki-speaking population throughout Turkestan. It quickly
absorbs races which on Indian soil would retain their well-marked
individuality and difference of speech for generations. Whatever
the causes may be, this rapid amalgamation at centres like
Yarkand and Khotan always presents itself to me as an apt
illustration of the historical process by which Turki tribes
far away to the west have j^eacefully absorbed foreign elements
more numerous and cultured than themselves.
I reached Kara-kash town in the afternoon, after crossing tin
1
VISIT TO
KARA-KASH TOWN. 465
wide bed of the river from which it is named, and found it a com-
paratively Uvely and well-built place. The garden of one of
Islam Beg's relations had been hospitably prepared for my recep-
tion, and there I was busy until a late hour with the measure-
ment of many heads for anthropological piuposes and the record
of interesting details about local administration, taxes, etc.,
for which I had in Islam Beg a first-hand authority.
April 30th was to be my last day within the territory of Khotan.
I used it for a long excursion to a
'
Tati ' site called Kara-dobe
(''
the Black Mound "), of which Islam Beg had obtained infor-
mation, away to the west on the edge of the desert. In order
to reach it we had to traverse in succession the remarkably
fertile tracts of Bahram-su. Kayesh, Makuya, and Kuya, all
stretching in long strips of highly cultivated ground with shady
orchards and lanes along their own separate canals fed by the
Kara-kash. No more pleasing picture could I retain as a
souvenir of rural Khotan. The day was hot and close, and the
vision of the mountains had already vanished in the usual haze.
So I was quite glad when, after passing for some seven miles
over a
scrub-covered sandy plain and then through low dunes,
Kara-dobe was reached. I found the ground for about a square
mile covered with ancient pottery, and in the midst of this
debris a small mound of broken masonry. The brick-work was
undoubtedly old, and might well have belonged once to the base
of a Stupa. Elsewhere broken pieces of hard white stucco with
relievo ornament possibly represent the last remains of some
long-decayed shrine. Heavy dunes of coarse sand, very trying
to our ponies, had to be crossed for some four miles before we
struck the western bank of a broad marshy Nullah in which
the
stream of Yawa expands among reed-covered lagoons. And
when by nightfall I arrived at my camp pitched near the village
of Zawa, I might feel as if, by these changes of rich village land,
sandy jungle, high dunes and marsh, Vaisravana, the divine
genius loci of Khotan in Buddhist legend, had wished to let me
once more see, as a parting favour, every type of scenery I had
beheld in the land over which he presided.
By daybreak of the ist of May I set out for my long journey
westwards. Cheered as I was by the thought of the road that
30
466 LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS.
now lay clear before me to Europe, I felt the sadness of saying
farewell, probably for ever, to a fascinating field of work and to
the last of my faithful local helpmates. At Zawa itself I had to
take leave of Turdi, my honest old guide, whose experience and
local sense never failed me in the desert. I liberally rewarded
his services with more
"
treasure," i.e,, cash, than he had ever
brought back from his wanderings in the Taklamakan. He had
also the expectation of seeing himself, through Pan-Darin's
favour, installed as
'
Mirab
'
or steward of irrigation for his
native village near Yurung-kash. It was a snug though modest
post to which our
'
Aksakal of the Taklamakan ' fondly
aspired, since he thought he was getting too old for the desert,
and in view of his proved honesty I had been able to recommend
him with a good conscience. Yet with this comforting prospect
before him, I could see how genuine the tears were that at our
parting trickled over the weather-beaten face of the old trea-
sure-seeker.
It was easier to leave behind Niaz Akhun, my Chinese inter-
preter. He had fallen into a matrimonial entanglement with
a captivating Khotan damsel of easy virtue, and had decided
to remain, against the emphatic warnings of the old Amban,
who plainly told him that, as a confirmed gambler and without
a chance of employment, he would soon be starving. He had
taken the earliest opportunity to divest himself of all further
responsibihties for his wife and children at Kashgar by divorcing
her
"
through letter post
"
as it were, the necessary document
from a Khotan Mullah costing only a few Tangas. With such
remarkable ease of divorce throughout the country, as illustrated
by this typical case, the organisation of Turkestan family life
has always appeared to me rather puzzling.
Islam Beg and Badruddin Khan, who had reason to be satis-
fied with the rewards their efficient services had earned them,
would not leave me until we reached Tarbugaz, the lonely
Langar on the desert edge where I had passed my first night on
Khotan soil. When they too had bidden me farewell and I was
riding on alone by the desert track to the
"
Pigeons' Shrine,"
my thoughts freely turned to a more cheerful themethe
results I was bringing back from Khotan. When I had passed
FAREWELL TO KHOTAX FRIENDS.
467
here nearly seven months before, there was little to give me
assurance that I should ever see the hopes fulfilled that had
drawn me to this distant land. But now my task was done and
I could rejoice in the thought that my labours had been re-
warded far beyond those long-cherished hopes. Again there
came into my mind a remembrance of the pious custom which
Hiuen-Tsiang had recorded at this very site, of the sacred rats
that once enjoyed the honour now paid to the sacred pigeons.
"
On passing the mounds they descend from their chariots and
pay their respects as they pass on, praying for success as they
worship.
, . . Most of those who practise these religious
rites obtain their wishes." It was true, the sacred birds had not
seen me worship
;
for success too I had not prayed, but onl}^
worked. Yet as success had come, I felt justified in offering to
the birds a liberal treat of maize and com as my grateful ex-voto
on leaving Khotan.
30'
^ '-w-^il
RETUKX TO KASHGAR. 469
into quagmires and the mud-built walls of many houses in town
and villages collapsed. In Yarkand city much distress prevailed
;
and even in the palatial halls of Chini-Bagh, which I again
occupied, the mud roofs were soon leaking so badly that I felt
serious concern about the safety of my antiquities. However,
the heavy downpour had deUghtfully cooled the air, and thus
the 140
odd miles to Kashgar, which I covered in less than
three days, was a thoroughly enjoyable ride.
The morning of May 12th, a brilliantly clear day and full of
the sensation of spring, saw me once more at Chini-Bagh under
Mr. Macartney's hospitable roof, which I had left almost exactly
eight months before. The warmest welcome greeted me there,
and in the company of such kind friends I found it difficult
to realise how long I had been cut off from personal touch with
Europe. I might have feared to tire my hosts by a pent-up
torrent of talk, had I not been assured by so many proofs of
the constant interest with which Mr. Macartney had from afar
followed my explorations. It was a source of keen pleasure to
me to be able to show him what ample results had attended
my work, and how much I owed to that local help which his
influence and care had mainly assured me.
The kind hospitality I enjoyed made my stay at Kashgar a
period of welcome physical rest, notwithstanding the multifarious
preparations that kept me constantly at work. The Govern-
ment of India in the Foreign Department, in accordance with
the request I made before my start from Calcutta, had obtained
tor me permission from the authorities in St. Petersburg to
travel through Russian Turkestan and to use the Trans-Caspian
Railway for my return to Europe. I had also been authorised
to take my archaeological collections for temporary deposit
to England, where alone convenient arrangements could be
made for their scholarly examination. It hence became necessary
at Kashgar to repack all my antiquarian finds with special
regard for safe transport on this long journey, while all surveying
instruments and other equipment, together with the records
of our survey work, were to be sent back to India via Hunza
in charge of the Sub-Surveyor.
While the fresh transport arrangements thus necessitated by
470 FKOM KHOTAN TO LONDON.
our different routes demanded much careful attention, I was also
kept busy with the
"
demobilisation " of my old caravan.
The camels and ponies, which had served us so well during
the journeys of the preceding eight months, could not be taken
any further, and as a not insignificant portion of the grant
allotted for the expenses of my journey was invested in the
animals, their satisfactory disposal was a matter of some
concern. After a good deal of bargaining, which, in view
of the trade customs of the Turkestan
'
Kirakash,' or carriers,
could scarcely be wondered at, I succeeded in this quasi-
commercial task far better than I had ventured to hope at one
time. The ponies sold practically without any loss, while in
the case of our eight camels I realised not less than three-fourths
of the purchase price. If I could have afforded the time to
await the proper season of caravan traffic northward into
Russian territory, I should probably have recovered for Govern-
ment the whole of the original outlay on my Turkestan trans-
port. That, after all the hard marching and exposure of our
winter campaign in the desert the whole of the transport had
been safely brought back, in a condition which allowed of its
sale with such small loss, may justly be claimed as a proof of the
care we had taken of our animals.
The arrangements for my onward journey were greatly
facilitated by the kind help of M. Petrovsky, Imperial Consul-
General of Russia at Kashgar, whose acquaintance I was fortunate
enough to make on this occasion. During a long official career in
Turkestan M. Petrovsky has devoted a great deal of scholarly zeal
to the study of the history and antiquities of the country, as I
had ample occasion to note in the course of the instructive
interviews with which I was favoured within the Russian Con-
sulate. He now did all in his power to ensure the safe transit
of my archaeological finds to England, and to secure for me
the friendly assistance of the authorities in Russian Turkestan.
For the help thus accorded I may be allowed to express here
my grateful acknowledgments.
During my stay at Kashgar I had repeated occasions to meet
again Huang-Kuang-ta, the kindly old Tao-tai, and to assure
him of my gratitude for the most effective co-operation which
AMONG OLD FRIENDS. 471
I had received from the Chinese oflftcials wherever my explor-
ations took me. The amiable old administrator did not deny
the genuine interest and goodwill with which he had followed
my work. But he politely insisted on attributing all the
sympathy and support I had enjoyed from him and his Ambans
to the benediction of my patron saint,
'
Tang-Seng.' He
even suggested as an explanation that we might both, in some
pre\-ious birth, have been together under the direct spiritual
influence of the great Buddhist monk ! The Tao-tai talked
of an early retirement to Hu-nan, and of his wish to end his
days peacefully in a famous Buddhist convent near his home.
This pious hope was not fulfilled
;
for illness and age caused
him to pass away at his post within a year of my departure.
After a fortnight of busy work the demobihsation of my
camp wcis completed, and all my antiquities safely packed
in twelve large boxes. They were duly presented at the Russian
Consulate for purposes of customs examination (a most gently
conducted one), and then received their seals with the Imperial
eagle, which I succeeded in keeping intact until I could unpack
my treasures in the British Museum. I may mention the fact
of my personally taking these boxes unopened over the various
land frontiers from China to England as an indication of how
much ci\'ilisation has done to obliterate in some respects the
great barriers between Kashgar and London.
At last the day came when I had to say farewell to my hosts,
whose unceasing kindness had made this first and practically
only rest after my desert wanderings an experience of which the
pleasure will not easily fade from my recollection. On the
morning fixed for my own departure I saw Sub-Surveyor Ra,m
Singh, the faithful companion of my travels, set out for the
return journey to India. He had rendered excellent services
in accurately surveying the w^hole of the ground covered by
my journeys, and had in addition to his proper duties been
always eager to make himself useful in connection with my
archaeological work. He had at all times cheerfully borne
the fatigues
inseparable from rapid travelling over difficult
ground and often under trying climatic conditions, and had
given me valuable help in the management of my camp. I had
472
FEOM KHOTAN TO LONDON.
indeed every reason to feel grateful to the Survey of India
Department, and in particular to its present head, Colonel St.
G. Gore, c.s.i., for having provided me with so willing and well
trained an assistant. With Ram Singh there left also Jasvant
KAM SINGH AND JASVANT SINGH, WITH
'
YOLCHI BEG,'
IN MR. MACARTNEY'S GARDEN, KASHGAR.
Singh, the wiry little Rajput who had looked after the Surveyor's
bodily comforts with exemplary care and devotion. Cheerful
and contented, however long the march or bleak our camping-
ground, Jasvant Singh could indeed serve as a model to every
one of my followers.
Knowing how great a favourite
'
Yolchi Beg
'
was with both
my Hindus, I could safely entrust the genial little fox-terrier
to their care for the journey back to India. To take him along
FAREWELL TO COMPANIONS. 473
with myself to Europe was out of the question. Exjual as my
Httle companion had proved to all hardships of mountains and
desert, it would have been cruel to subject him to weeks of a
wearisome journey by rail merely to leave him in the end to
the confinement of quarantine on reaching England. Yet I
confess I felt the separation from the devoted comrade of all
my travels, until we joyfully met again one November night on a
Punjab railway platform. He had ailed a little before my
return, but soon picked up his spirits againonly to pine away
in the end when my scientific task had forced me once more to
proceed to England. Fate favoured him in the place of his
death, for he breathed his last in Alpine Kashmir, which he
loved like his master.
On May
29, 1901,
exactly a year after leaN-ing Srinagar, I
started from Kashgar for Osh, the nearest Russian town in
Farghana. My caravan was small, six sturdy ponies carrpng
my antiquities, while two more sufficed for a tente d'abri and
my much reduced camp outfit and personal baggage. Besides
the men attending to the hired animals only Sadak Akhun ac-
companied me. Safely removed from the evil spirits of the
desert (recte the temptation to take too large doses of
'
Charas
')
he had become again a fairly sober character. The caravan
route from Kashgar to Osh, across the Alai mountains, is
reckoned at eighteen marches. Anxious to save time, I managed
to cover it in ten days, keeping in the saddle or on foot from
early morning until nightfall.
Owing to the exceptional rain of the pre\-ious weeks and the
rapid melting of the snows, the feeders of the Kizil-su, which
the route crosses repeatedly before reaching the Russian frontier
towards the Alai, were all in flood. The passage of my precious
loads of antiques across the swollen streams was hence a daily
anxiety. However, with care and some good fortune we managed
to negotiate each of these obstacles without a single box getting
drenched, and on the evening of the fifth day I arrived at
Irkeshtam, the Russian frontier post. Never have I felt so
much the significance of a political barrier. For it seemed
Europe indeed into which I stepped when, a few hundred yards
from the Chinese frontier, I entered the well-built, comfortable
474 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON.
house, nestling below the Cossack garrison's fort, where M.
Dochenko, the hospitable officer in charge of the Russian
Customs, gave me a warm welcome.
The scenery next morning showed an equally marked and
pleasant change. The barren rock and detritus of the valleys
at the head-waters of the Kizil-su gave way to grassy alpine
slopes soon after I left Irkeshtam. The usual route over the
Terek Pass was closed by the depth and softness of the snow.
So I had to take the more circuitous route over the Alai. On
the Taun-murun Pass (close on
12,000 feet above the sea),
which crosses the water-shed between Tarim and Oxus, and on
which we had to spend a comfortless night, the deep snowdrifts
and inclement weather caused much trouble. The sky did not
clear next day when I rode down the broad rolling
'
Margs,'
as we should call them in Kashmir, of the head of the Alai
Valley, and consequently I lost the chance of sighting Mount
Kaufmann and other high peaks of the Trans-Alai range towards
the Pamir.
The Kirghiz had not yet ventured up to these splendid summer
grazings which would force even the most stolid of Kashmir
Gujars to admiration. The consequent want of shelter and
supplies forced us to attempt the same day the crossing of the
Taldik Pass in order to reach less exposed ground northwards.
We were now indeed on the good bridle road that leads from
Gulcha to the
'
Pamirski post,' the well-known Russian fort
on the Pamirs ; but it was completely obliterated higher
up by deep snow, and a blinding snowstorm came on while
we toiled up to the Pass. But for the excellent guidance of
our plucky
'
Jigit,'
a Nogai or Russified Muhammadan from
Kazan whom the obliging Customs officer of Irkeshtam had
provided as an escort, we might have fared badly. It was
late in the night before we struggled through to the deserted
Kirghiz blockhouses of Och-tobe at the northern foot of the Pass.
It was a wretched shelter, but all my boxes were safe.
After this experience, the rapid marches of the next three
days, which carried me down the valley of the Gulcha River,
were doubly delightful. The Alpine scenery, the luxuriant
growth of herbs and flowers, as well as the abundance of pine
OVER THE ALAI PASSES. 475
forest in the higher side valleys, reminded me at every turn
of familiar views in Kashmir. We met plenty of Kirghiz with
their entire household on camels and ponies, slowly moving
up for their summer
'
Yailaks
'
on the Alai. The fine carpets
IN THE BAZAR OF OSH, FARGHANA.
displayed on the camels which the women-folk rode gave to
these caravans
quite an air of splendour.
I cannot
pause to describe the many signs of prosperity and
rapid
material
development
which met the eye every\vhere as
soon as I had
entered, on the 7th of
June,
the open fertile parts
of the great
Farghana Valley. Through carefully cultivated
fields and
substantially
built villages, where there was much
476 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON.
to indicate the beneficial results of a well-ordered European'
administration combined with great natural resources, I rode
that evening into Osh, the prettily situated headquarters of
the district. Its cantonment, founded by General Skobeleff
on the conquest of Farghana only some twenty-five years before,
looked, with its clean streets of Russian houses and its fine
park along the broad, tossing river, like a favoured spot of
Eastern Europe. Yet at the same time I was curiously reminded
by many a pleasant feature of Indian
"
stations
"
I knew well
along the foot of the Himalayas.
Colonel Zaytseff, the Chief of the District, and an officer of
distinguished attainments, received me with the greatest kind-
ness. His office, with picturesque Ming-bashis and Kirghiz
headmen in attendance outside, still suggested the
"
Cutchery
"
of an Indian Frontier District. But at the charming villa
where I enjoyed his hospitality, together with a glorious view;
of the snow-covered Alai range in the distance, everything
breathed the air of Europe. The telegraph, which enabled me i
here to get into touch with home, still further strengthened the
illusion that I had reached the confines of the West.
A short halt at Osh gave much-needed rest. I here discharged
|
Sadak Akhun, whose open-air kitchen arrangements had aroused
as much interest in the Russian household of my host, the local
postmaster, as if they had been carried on in the back garden
of a London suburb. I also disposed there of my remaining
j
Indian camp furniture. I had reason to compliment myself on
the lucky inspiration which prompted this last step. For when,]
after a four-hours' drive by the well-shaded road that traverses'
the open fertile plain towards Andijan, I reached this great town
and with it the terminus of the Trans-Caspian Railway, I found
myself in full Europe for all practical purposes. In the com-
fortable hostelry of the
"
Moskwiya Numer " my camp-bed
and camp-chair would have been as much out of place as if
set up in the inn of an English country town.
The Russian part of Andijan, stretching with broad and well
watered roads to the cast of the railway head, presented in all
respects the appearance of a thriving commercial town of Eastern
Europe. There were numbers of well-stocked shops, offices full of
IN RUSSIAN TURKESTAN. 477
Russian clerks, and, in the evening, a large gathering of European
employes listening to the military band that played in the pubUc
gardens surrounding the fine church. The large native city some
miles off bore the same air of bustUng life and prosperity.
Andijan was an important centre long before the Russian
occupation, and the great impetus given by the latter to the
material progress of Farghana had only added to the wealth of
its traders, particularly since the extension of the Trans-Caspian
Railway. While walking through the broad, well-kept Bazars,
stocked with all kinds of European manufacture, as well as the
produce of home industries in Russian and Chinese Turkestan,
how little could I think of the terrible doom awaiting Andijan
in the earthquakes of the last year ! Every Central-Asian race
seemed to be represented in the busy multitude that thronged
the Bazars. Curiously enough I was greeted here by a Kashgar
'
Haji,' who a little over a year before, while on his way to
Bombay, had met me at the Turki Sarai of the Kashmir capital.
Since performing the pilgrimage to Mecca, he had seen Egypt
and Constantinople, and had chosen for his homeward journey
the convenient railway route from the Black Sea and the Caspian.
Our meeting here seemed a striking illustration how small the
'
world
"
is growing, even in Central Asia.
On the nth of
June
I left Andijan by the Trans-Ceispian
Railway, which was now to carry me and my antiquities in
comfort and safety towards real Europe. This journey, however
hurried it had to be under the circumstances, enabled me to
obtain many interesting ghmpses of a part of Central Asia,
which by its historical associations and its ancient culture,
has had a special fascination for me ever since my Oriental
studies began. Though luckily now under a civilised power and
hence fully accessible, how much it still offers to the historian
and archaeologist to explore ! I made short halts at the
provincial capitals of MargUan and Samarkand, where I was
favoured \vith much kind attention by Generals Tchaikowsky
and Medinsky, the respective governors, and offered special
opportunities for examining the antiquities collected in the local
museums. I may add here that, though my knowledge of
P'lssian is as scanty as it could be, I met nowhere with anything
478 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON.
but courtesy and goodwill among Russian fellow- passengers
and local officials. Tfie impressions of the delightful days I
spent at Samarkand, mainly in visits to the incomparable
monuments of architecture of Timur's period which mark
the height of Muhammadan power and art in Central Asia,
could not be surpassed even by the combined reminiscences
of Lahore, Delhi, and Agra. It was, in truth, another ex-
AT SAMARKAND : MAR
KET WITH RUINKI
MOSQUES IN B\(
K
GROUND.
hibition of Moghul grandeur, but under a sky and in a climate
that even in
June
recalled Kashmir.
A brief stay at Merv allowed me to touch ground full of great
memories of ancient Iran. It was a tantalising pleasure,
perhaps, seeing how little chance there seems for me to follow
up my early historical studies in this field, yet I feel grateful
for it. Then past the ruins of Gok-tepe, an historical site
of more recent memories, the railway carried me to Krasnowodsk:
SAMARKAxND TO THE CASPIAN. 479
From there I crossed the Caspian to Baku, and finally, after
long and tiring days in the train (via Petrovsk. Rostoff,
Podwoloczyska, Cracow, Berlin) I arrived in London on
July
2, 1901.
There I had the satisfaction of depositing the antiquities un-
earthed from the desert sands in the British Museum as a safe
temporary resting-place. Neither they nor my eight hundred
odd photographic negatives on glass had suffered by the long
journey. It was for me finis longce chartceque vicBqiie, but also the
commencement of a period of toil, the more trying because the
physical conditions under which it had to be done were so
different from those I had gone through.
Owing to the great extent of the collections I had succeeded
in bringing back, the task of arranging and cataloguing proved
a very exacting one. As the period of six weeks' deputation
in England originally sanctioned by the Government of India
for this purpose proved wholly insufficient, the Secretary of
State for India was pleased to extend it by another period of
six weeks. I had every reason to feel grateful for this con-
cession
;
but it was only at the cost of great exertions and
through the devoted help of my friend, Mr. F. H. Andrews,
that I succeeded in accomplishing the temporary arrangement
of my collection and the preparation of a
"
Preliminary Report
"
during the allotted period.
When this urgent task was concluded by the close of September,
I felt glad that my impending return to India for ordinary duty
as Inspector of Schools in the Punjab promised at least a change
and temporary respite. The busy weeks spent mainly in the
basement rooms which the authorities of the British Museum had
480 FEOM KHOTAN TO LONDON.
very kindly offered for the first accommodation of my collections,
seemed to me a time of immurement for the sake of science.
How often have I not, then and since, wished myself back in the
freedom and peace of the desert !
KIRGHIZ FAMILY ON THE MARCH.
INDEX.
NOTES.