Once more on the camp side, however, we strolled along in leisurely mood,
staying to lunch on top of the ridge overlooking Tronkol. I left the
ladies then to find their leisurely way back among the flowery hollows,
and made for a peak overlooking the head of the Chittagul Nullah. A sharp
climb up broken rocks and over snow slopes brought me to the top, a point
some 13,500 feet above the sea. In front of me Haramok, seamed with
snow-filled gullies, still towered far above; immediately below, the
saddle--brown, bare earth, snow-streaked--divided the Chittagul Nullah
from Tronkol. Far away down the valley the Sind River gleamed like a
silver thread in the afternoon light, and beyond, the Wular lay a pale
haze in the distance.
To the northward rose the fantastic range of peaks that overhang the
Wangat gorge, and almost below my feet, at a depth of some 1500 feet, lay
a sombre lakelet, steely dark and still, in the shadow of the ridge upon
which I sat.
The sun was going down fast into a fleecy bed of clouds, amid which I knew
that Nanga Parbat lay swathed from sight. To see that mountain monarch had
been the chief object of my climb, so, recognising that the sight of him
was a hope deferred, I made haste to scramble down to the tarn below,
stopping here and there to fill my pith hat with wild rhubarb, and to pick
or admire the new and always fascinating wild flowers as I passed.
Large-flowered, white anemones; tiny gentian, with vivid small blue
blossoms; loose-flowered, purple primulas, and many strange and novel
blossoms starred the grassy patches, or filled the rocky crevices with
abundant beauty.
Pages:
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187