had no means of alleviating, he was allowed to try his
hand. The pony was accordingly thrown, and Khalik
proceeded to remove a portion of the gristle near the
nostril, rubbing in salt and some yellow powder and
sewing up the wound again. In spite of this drastic
treatment, and much to the operator’s surprise, the
animal died very shortly afterwards.
The snowstorm continued steadily throughout the
afternoon, converting the camping-ground into a veritable
quagmire. As the baggage animals straggled in,
they were unloaded and the burdens deposited on
the ground, only to disappear rapidly under the all-
enveloping snow. The cold was intense, not so much
on account of the 15 degrees of frost registered by
the thermometer, as from the searching wind which
tore down the valley with tremendous force, almost
sweeping us off our feet. Snow fell at intervals all
that night, but happily the wind gradually dropped.
When we rose next morning the country was
shrouded in a thick mist, and the shivering and hungry
ponies had gathered round and between our tents, in
the hope of finding companionship and warmth.
A start was made under these miserable conditions,
but very soon the sun burst through the veil, the clouds
rolled away, and the genial warmth rapidly melted the
snow. We steadily descended the farther side of the
pass, making our way first alongside the nullah and
afterwards in the river-bed itself, and halted at Pamzal,
on the Changchenmo1 River.
On arrival in camp, the ponies were unloaded and
tied up, head to tail, for about fifteen minutes to cool.
They were then turned loose and wandered where they
pleased in search of food; half an hour before dusk
they would turn their heads homewards, moving faster
1 Chang-chen-mo (valley leading to the desert).