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THE EXPEDITION TO CHOGO-RI Part VIII Leaves From the Notebook of Aleister Crowley
Published in the U.K. Vanity Fair London, England 16 September 1908 (pages 372-373)
On August 20th we decided to descend through the valley by the way we had come instead of crossing the Skara La. The baths did me a great deal of good. My constant sorrow at having ever been born was interrupted by moments of something very like indifference as to whether I was alive or not. It needed, in fact, a very few days to plunge me into the moral abyss of actually liking life.
On August 21st we marched to Ghombora, a very hot march after midday. At the big mud-nala we found a curious change. The mud had caked dry; but at some previous time it had overflowed its right bank after issuing from between the rocky walls which bounded it higher up, so that the long stony beach or valley parallel to the Bralduh by which we had ascended was now a solid mass of hard mud. The smaller nala was in much the same condition as we had previously found it, but not so deep in mud. At Ghombora we found fresh apricots, and had a perfectly splendid feast. As also at Dasso, where we found apples. On the march we found fresh peaches. The intelligent reader will, no doubt, be able to anticipate the sequel.
To Shigar by Raft.
The march to the camping ground, which was just beyond Yuno, was terrible. We had sent down orders for a raft, and expected it to meet us at the foot of the great Pari, where the valley divides. Alas! the river was not navigable so high up, and we had to tramp over the burning sands hour after hour. The junction of the rivers was in an entirely different place to that marked on the map, and we toiled down the peninsula under the broiling sub till got below Yuno, where I sat down on the river bank and sent men off in all directions to find the raft which I had sent for the night before. About 4 o'clock it arrived, and we were whirled across stream to the place where we finally camped. These rafts are called "Zak," and are composed of not very thick sticks laid together with two or three crossbars to give stability. and otherwise bound with cord. On this structure are tied goat skins which are periodically inflated. On this raft, which was a bad one, the goat skins deflated so frequently that, in spite of having a man constantly at work to blow them out, we were compelled to land at intervals of about half an hour for a general overhauling.
Went down to Shigar by raft. The zak-wale behaved disgracefully, and the night before it was only by the aid of the belt that they had been made to understand that the Doctor [Jules Jacot Guillarmod] and I meant to go down that river at any price. At Shigar we rejoined the party who had arrived the previous evening. We were now without sufficient money to pay off our men; and Salama, who had been sent to Skardu to try and get assistance from the Tehsildar, had been unsuccessful. At Shigar we found fresh mulberries and melons, also some rather unripe grapes. In the evening a storm began. The amount of fresh fruit I had eaten was beginning to tell, and I had a pretty bad attack of biliousness; not that I had really eaten an extravagant amount, but my digestive organs were in a very bad way after the rough treatment they had had on the glacier. We went on to Skardu by raft, though we had to walk from the junction of the Shigar river and the Indus, which is unfortunately below Skardu. Skardu was the height of luxury, and we found fresh ripe grapes, green corn, and potatoes. This rejoiced us exceedingly, it being a long time since we had tasted even the latter.
Homeward Bound.
On August 26th I had another go of fever, and laid in bed till the afternoon; but then felt well enough to make a bandobast for myself and the Doctor to go down to Srinagar across the Deosai plains. Two days afterwards I started at 6 o'clock in the morning and distinguished myself by repeating Absalom's experience with the tree; the horse bolting and taking me under a very low bough; all my Mexican-learnt tricks did not save me from being ignominiously pulled off. We crossed the plain in about an hour enlivened by a sunset shower of rain and hail. The track having entered a steep nala up which we went stopping rather earlier than we should have done at the maidan which our natives called Pindarbal; but for which different natives had different names. The same remark applies to all stages of the Deosai; so that travellers need not expect to find even the most reliable information from a most intelligent source of much use.
The march to Karpal was a long but pleasant one. We crossed the Burgila about four hours from the stage. There was a short patch of snow to cross. The weather was fine, and we got a splendid view of the mountains from the top. Descending a few hundred feet on the other side we were on the great plains of the Deosai. The track most of the way followed the course of the river downwards. This stream was of wonderful beauty, limpid and clear, so that the many-coloured bed showed exquisitely through. Delightful flowers grew everywhere. No contrast could have been greater from the expectations which the report of travellers had led us to form.
Then on to Karlapani, or as some call it, Krunab. The weather was somewhat threatening, and the wind cold; but, on the whole, it was very decent. After we came in the rain came down in torrents. The Doctor was now suffering from some mysterious complaint,[1] and his illness kept him going almost into Srinagar, but it was not a very bad attack.
Camping Under Difficulties.
We went on to Burzil, in wet and cold weather, and a good deal of wind. I plunged steadily along (though very saddle sore) with only one stop of five minutes in the eight hours' march. At and beyond the Pass which led down to Burzil one could do no riding. It was an immense pleasure when at last the nala opened out the same moment as the clouds cleared away, and we saw a sturdy little Rest House standing at the foot of this Pass, and the clean, well ordered Gilgit road winding away on either side. That evening we again joined Lieut. Carlyon, who had started on the same day from Skardu, though by the perversity of our respective shikari we had always camped at different stages, passing and re-passing constantly. We sacrificed the last of our champagne, and had a great dinner; feeling that at last we were getting back to something like comfort. And no wonder; there were chairs and tables in the bungalow, and fireplaces which we kept roaring merrily all the evening!
The form and colouring of the valley was wonderful, the greens and violets in particular, harmonising with the crimson of the sunset, made the sight not easy to forget.
On August 31st we went on to Pashwari. The valley was charming, and the glorious colouring continued to delight.
Gurais was our next stopping place. On the road I was passed by an Englishman, who indignantly brushed me out of the way, under the impression that I was a native of some sort. Six months of beard and hair, and constant exposure to weather, together with my pagri, had indeed made an object of me which deceived the Kashmiri themselves. In the whole ride to Bandipur the natives never saluted me till the khabar reached them and told them what to expect. The surprise of the Englishman a few hours later, when he was introduced to me, I will leave to the imagination of my readers. At Gurais I found the Forest Officer of the District, Radcliffe, by name, whom we had known at Srinagar. He himself hardly recognised me at first; but my shikari, Abdulla Bat, told him that I had arrived. He had come up in great style; for, living constantly in the jungle, he had learnt to take care of himself; with fine hospitality he placed all the resources of his establishment at our disposal, so that I enjoyed the luxury of a hot bath and decently-cooked food. Since the dismissal of Abdullah Khan our only cooks had been Kashmiri, two of our naukar having volunteered for this job; but in the division of our party I had got the worse of the two. The Doctor did his best by showing him various methods of cooking potatoes; but the native is so constituted that if you order, for example, fried potatoes one night, he never dares to cook them in any other way until the order is definitely reversed. So the Doctor was pretty constantly in our kitchen, and made our cuisine fairly tolerable; but as the materials at the cook's disposal consisted only of mutton, chicken, eggs, salt, and flour, with very occasional butter, apart from the drinkables (which were confined to tea) the menu was not varied; and we were heartily glad to eat the excellent lunch and dinner which Radcliffe so hospitably provided. The memory of it is still with me.
Hill Ponies.
September 3rd, Gurai reached, we went on to Tragabal over the Pass. The last hour of the journey I began to feel ill. It was another attack of malaria, though not a very bad one. A few hours after we had got in Knowles [Guy Knowles] and Eckenstein [Oscar Eckenstein], who had by this time received the money and paid the men, had caught us up.
On September 4th we proceeded on our way to Baramulla. In the morning three of us walked down to Bandipur. Radcliffe had also arrived the previous evening with the postmaster in charge of the Gilgit mail, and I. The Doctor had gone on, as he wanted to jodel; while Knowles and Eckenstein were in a state of great alarm as to mosquitoes, which they could hardly avoid if they went off to Srinagar that day, so they camped at a little village on the Tragobal. My donga was waiting for me at Bandipur. I had ordered it from Srinagar by telegraph, and I lent this to Carlyon, who was pressed for time, while Ratcliffe brought the Doctor and myself in his own donga to Baramulla, as there was no better way of avoiding the mosquitoes.
On September 5th, had a very bad go of malaria, my temperature going up to 40 deg. Cent.; but I was well again the next day.
On September 6th the Doctor and I drove off to Sringar by special donga. After 132 days I again slept in a bed, and the expedition was over.
1—He says in his book that I also suffered on this part of the journey; but I did not.—AC |
