THE EXPEDITION TO CHOGO-RI

Part IV

Leaves From the Notebook of Aleister Crowley

Published in the U.K. Vanity Fair

London, England

5 August 1908

(pages 179-180)

On the 21st we went on to Yuno, another short and agreeable march, but on the 22nd we had a most unpleasant day; miles of river bed full of rounded stones had to be crossed, and we forded altogether six rivers. This brought us to the place where the valley divided, and we followed the true left hand branch, which was called the Bralduh Valley. The dividing mountain was buttressed by a great cliff, under which the river ran deeply and swiftly, so that we were compelled to climb a pari about 1,200 feet high. The horses had gone back from some little distance below, the fact was they could not go any farther. I was by this time in fairly decent condition; but it was a long march in the blazing sun over the waterless and interminable slopes. We reached Dasso at about half-past one.

On the 23rd we went on to Ghomboro. I had been getting a little tired of the fact that Pfannl [Heinrich Pfannl] was always ready to greet me on my arrival and to inform me with a superior smile how many hours he had been at the stage, so this morning I stuck to his heels, and found that he made his records by going top speed all the way. This was a pretty long march, and there was a long pari about 1,500 feet high cutting off the corner which overhangs the Bralduh. This village is on the Hoh Lumba, and not as marked on the map. Eckenstein [Oscar Eckenstein] turned up rather late with a strained knee, which made him somewhat doubtful about being able to march on the next day. However, he was all right the next morning, the 24th, at least so far recovered that the Doctor [Jules Jacot Guillarmod] gave him permission to march, provided he went slowly and took care of himself. I will here re-copy the account of the day's events as I wrote it at the time:

Yaks Plowing.

Saturday May 24th. Left Ghomoboro at 4.40 a.m. with Pfannl and Wesseley [Victor Wessely]. Reached first mud nala at 6.0. Near wall fifty feet high or more and very steep, but dry. Far wall fifteen feet high and nearly vertical, consisting of black mud in which stones (some fairly big) were lodged. I detached Pfannl and Wesseley to let the coolies down the steepest part by a rope. I myself cut a path with a big axe. 300 to 400 cubic feet of mud and stones were dislodged in this process. The coolies could have passed by going fifty yards down the nala, but would certainly have been killed had an avalanche fallen. As it was there were three or four yards in the bed of the nala which were unavoidable; but a coolie would have had plenty of time to escape, as Pfannl could see from above if any was imminent. As it happened none did fall. The mud-line was fifteen feet high. Bulk of coolies safely over at 6.40. I then heard there was another bad place, and started rapidly with Dr Jacot-Guillarmod to help if necessary. We took, perhaps, half an hour to reach this. It was a wide, soft, deep bed of mud, stationary or nearly so. Men were hard at work throwing in stones for a causeway. This I heard later they had been doing for ten days. A way of just sufficient stability was thus made, and all was easy. From here we reached Pakora in an hour or less.

On the 25th we went on to Askoli. Rather less than an hour beyond Pakora are the hot springs of sulphur. There are several basins and pools, but only one of any importance or beauty. This is a circular pool of about forty feet diameter and just deep enough in the middle to swim. The water is exquisitely clear, and a light steam rises from it. The temperature of the spring is about 35 degs. Centigrade. The basin is formed by very beautiful coraline deposits of calcium carbonate, branching or flowerlike with, perhaps, some sulphide, as the water gives off sulphuretted hydrogen in abundance, and in so pure a state that the unpleasant smell which one associates with the carelessly prepared laboratory gas is not present. Knowles [Guy Knowles], the doctor, and myself spent about two hours bathing. It was the first decent bath we had had for over four weeks. We reached Askoli a little before noon. By the doctor's orders the party was now to wait for ten days to rest; also there was a great deal of bandobast to make. The Austrians entirely disregarded the doctor's orders and went out every day for long walks during the ten days at Askoli. There was a good deal of illness, which the doctor called influenza, among the servants. I was also not very well; but my time was entirely occupied in constant consultations with Eckenstein. This was the last village. We did not know how many marches there were to our final camp; and we had to make food provisions for all the coolies.

A Palaver.

On the 29th we sent off the first shift of about fifty coolies to Bardonal, a three-days' march, at which place the natives told us was the last "maidan" and firewood. On the 31st Abdulla Khan came to us and said there was about ten pounds of sugar left. We had managed to eat ten pounds a day since leaving Skardu! This was a little too thick. We had up the three men who were in charge of the cooking department, and tried to frighten them; as it proved, in vain.

On June 2nd we reached the kiltas, leaving everything we could possibly do without in charge of the Lambadar at Askoli. On the 3rd I spent most of the evening with Eckenstein weighing out the flour supply and painting the sacks.

The great difficulty in undertaking a journey through uninhabited country is that a coolie, though carrying flour only, will eat his own load in about twenty days, consequently the limit to which you can take the men is only ten days out and back. Our Baltis, luckily, could do a great deal more than this. As it turned out, our final camp was fourteen marches from Askoli, and of course this left a very small margin for carrying our own baggage. We had about one hundred loads in all; but this required the constant employment of nearly 300 coolies. Practically every man in the village (and, indeed, in the valley) able to carry a load was in our service. During our absence from Askoli we consumed more than five tons of flour.

Our Camp at Askoli.

By the 4th everything was finished, and we were lucky enough to spot a row between our three heroes of the sugar supply and the natives. They had been cheating the unfortunate inhabitants in the way that Eastern servants always do unless most carefully looked after, and with an enormous bandobast like ours it is almost impossible to keep constantly on the watch.

On the 5th we marched. I was foolish enough to follow the coolies instead of looking out my own way for myself. The result was I wasted several hours wandering over the top of Biafo glacier, whereas the bulk of the party only crossed it twice, there being a way below. Just as I got over the glacier, with five coolies, two enormous stones came down from above about twenty yards in front of us. It was now after mid-day, and stones were falling everywhere from the nose of the glacier, and some care had to be exercised, but these two were absolutely gigantic. I went to the larger of the two on reaching the bottom; I found it higher than my own reach, though it had made a pretty big hole in the sand. I reached Korophon a little after four. Korophon consists of a little stunted grass grouped around a vast boulder. Its position is incorrectly marked on Conway's map. I might just as well state here that this map is so inaccurate as to be almost worthless. In some places it is very well done indeed, but that is of no great advantage, as once a map shows any gross inaccuracy one cannot tell till afterwards where it is right and where wrong; and, of course, the great use of a map is its function of prophecy.

A Mud Hill.

We were very anxious to persuade our men to ford the stream of the Punma and its junction with the main stream of the Baltoro. We promised them if they reached Bardomal the next day they should be paid as if they had taken two days, as on the ordinary marches, but this was a delusion on our part, due again to Conway's map. The rope bridge which he marks is not nearly so far, and on the return journey we made the march by his route quite easily in a day. However, we sent off a committee of natives to investigate the ford and report. They returned and agreed to try. As it turned out we crossed without any difficulty whatever. The distance from the river to Bardomal is a great deal farther than from Korophon to the river; though Bardomal is correctly placed, as far as it is opposite the junction of the two streams. On the 7th we went on to Paiyu, the scenery steadily increasing in grandeur, some of the mountains being magnificent beyond description. At one point we crossed an enormous fan of debris, and on reaching the highest point the Baltoro suddenly thrust itself before our eyes with its towering guard of sentinel peaks. One of great height we took to be the Mustagh Tower of "K2," which latter mountain I shall in future refer to by its proper native name, Chogo Ri, merely passing over with a single word of contempt the ridiculous pretensions of Godwin-Austin to call the second highest mountain in the world by his own cacophonous name. We reached Paiyu before noon. Abdulla Khan, on our counting the fowls, told us that two had died. I am afraid they had, but if they had died in any legitimate way he would, of course, have shown us the bodies. It was quite out of the question, therefore, that we should allow these servants to remain in charge of our base camp as we had intended. We held a summary court martial in the presence of the Chaprasi of the Tehsildar of Skardu, who had come with us, and of the Wazir of Alchori, who had also attached himself to so renowned a convoy as we of course appeared to native eyes; it being the first time in history that six white men had been at one time at Skardu; so Abdulla and his two partners in crime were packed off and sent back. By the coolies who accompanied them we sent warning to all whom it might concern that these men were scoundrels, and that they were to be on their guard against them. As they were packing up for their departure Abdulla Baig, the second of the ruffians, complained that Hassan, a clever and useful little Balti boy whom we had picked up in the Leh Road, and attached to out corps of Naukars, owed him a rupee for a coat. This was Abdulla Baig's old coat, green with brass buttons, and very much worn; which he had discarded when we had provided him with a fine new coat against the cold. The Balti boy said he had paid the rupee; which I have no doubt was true, though probably not by his own will, as the coat was barely worth an anna. Abdulla Khan would, of course, have deducted the cash from his "talab." The whole of the "Arabian Nights" flashed through my mind in a single second, and I saw my way to an act of poetic and Oriental justice. I simply made the two change coats; the old coat was Abdulla Baig's, as Hassan had not paid for it; but the new coat was mine, and I had a perfect right to give it to Hassan. This arrangement greatly pleased the multitude.

(To be continued.)