As we rose to the shoulder
of the hill the gradient became much easier, and I had leisure to admire
the panorama that stretched around the snowy ridge, which fell away
abruptly on either side through dense pine forests. The day was quite
glorious.... The sun, blazing in a cloudless sky, cast sharp steel-blue
shadows where rock or tree stood between the snow and his nobility. The
white peaks that rose around in marvellous array seemed so near in the
bright air that it seemed as though one could see the smallest creature
moving on their distant slopes. But there was little life observable in
this still and silent world--nothing but an occasional pair of crows
flapping steadily over the woods, or a far vulture circling at a giddy
height in the "blue dome of the air." Silence everywhere, except for the
distant and perpetual voice of many waters murmuring in the unseen depths
below.
To the south--showing clear above the serrated back of the ridge beyond
the camp--stood the Pir Panjal; pale ivory in the pale horizon below the
sun. At the foot of the valley up which we had come yesterday, and partly
screened by the intruding buttresses of its enfolding hills, the Wular
Lake lay a shimmering shield of molten silver.
In front, the sheeted mountains which guard Gurais and flank the icy
portals of the Tragbal stood, a series of glistening slopes and
cold-crowned precipices, while to the east Haramok reared his 17,000 feet
into a threefold peak of snowy majesty.
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