connected with them; Chinese charities and educational methods; the system of government and the failings and virtues of the mandarins; and many other questions of importance for the future of the empire. For the Chinese mobs-at whose hands her life was on two occasions in actual danger—Mrs. Bishop has naturally no good word to say; but she found much to like in the dwellers in the country districts, who are generally quiet and harmless. She is far from sharing the views of those who regard the empire in a hopeless state of decay, and, while acknowledging the evils of the system of government, points out various counterbalancing features which tend to the stability of the country. The "open door" policy, as opposed to the political encroachments of European nations, finds in her a vigorous champion. We have said nothing of the many hardships encountered during the journey, but though the writer does not dwell on these, she says enough to make us wonder at the spirit and hardihood which enabled her to persevere in spite of all obstacles, and carry through her undertaking to so successful a termination.

NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY TO THE LAKES RAKAS-TAL AND MANASAROWAR, IN WESTERN TIBET, UNDERTAKEN IN SEPTEMBER, 1848.*

By Lieut.-General Sir RICHARD STRACHEY, R.E., G.C.S.I., F.R.S. August 8-16.-Accompanied by my friend Mr. J. E. Winterbottom, I left Almora on August 8, 1848, with the intention of going via Milam, as far as the Satlaj river in Tibet, and if possible on to the lakes. The first part of the journey presented little that was remarkable, and it was hot and rainy. Our route lay, for about 50 miles, over the outer Himalayan ranges, at elevations between 3000 and 7000 feet, to the valley of the Gori river, at the head of which Milam is situated. Into this valley we descended from the Kalamundi pass, over a ridge rising to over 9000 feet, at the foot of which lies the cluster of villages of which Jalat is the centre and most important. These form the winter residences of the inhabitants of Juhar, the name given to the highest portion of the valley of the Gori, that of the lower part, in which Jalat is situated, being Munshari.

The direct road to Milam lies up the bed of the Gori, but it passes through a gorge between lofty and precipitous mountains, and at this season was impracticable, as bridges, which are each winter destroyed by avalanches, had not yet been repaired. Earlier in the year, when the migration of the people of the highest valleys commences from their winter quarters on the outer ranges, the snow which is accumulated by these avalanches itself affords the means of crossing the river. At the time of our visit the snow had melted, and the Gori was unfordable; we therefore had to take a more circuitous route by the Ralam valley, which joins that of the Gori a little above Jalat.

August 21.-Crossing the Gori, we soon got into dense forest, which became continuous until we left it in ascending the Ralam valley, at an elevation of about 11,000 feet, beyond which arboreous vegetation ceases, and the alpine herbaceous

* As this narrative has not before been published, the information it contains has been considered by the Council of sufficient value to be placed on permanent record.— ED. G. J. Map, p. 204.

zone is entered, which by its wonderful luxuriance characterizes the southern flanks of the snowy ranges at these elevations. In the six days occupied by our journey from Jalat to Milam, upwards of 250 species of flowering plants were added to our collections.

August 23.-Ralam, 12,000 feet, is a wretched-looking village with flat-roofed mud and stone houses, which cut no figure when compared with the far smarter slated abodes of the more civilized inhabitants of Juhar. The people are poor and uncouth, approximating in their habits to the semi-Tibetan population of the contiguous valley of Darma, which is so difficult of access that I was told that no European had entered it since the surveyors in 1817. Ralam is said to be famous for its turnips, but I had no means of testing this.

August 24.-From Ralam our route lay over the Barji-kang pass, 15,400 feet. Hansa ling, 18,200 feet,

Dhansi, 19,200 feet.

The ascent was easy, and the vegetation abundant and varied, and no fewer than thirteen species of saxifrage were collected between Ralam and the top of the pass. From the summit we looked down into the head of the Gori valley, seeing right up it to the extremity of the great glacier from which that river rises. For a few minutes the peaks of Nanda-devi, 25,700 feet, and Nanda-kot, 22,600 feet, distant about 15 miles to the west, were visible, but they were soon covered by the clouds that constantly hung about the higher points of the snowy mountains during the rainy months. The contrast between the view on the two sides of the pass was most striking. To the north the Milam valley looked bright, cheerful, and dry, chiefly in sunshine, though a few detached clouds threw patches of shadow here and there on the bare brown hillsides; while to the south the Ralam valley was densely filled with mist, which rolled up just over the crest of the pass, but soon dissolved on the dry north face.

August 25.-In the morning, which was wet and cloudy, the temperature of the air was not below 38°5, but next day, after a clear night, it fell to 32°, and a thermometer exposed to the sky on loose cotton fell to 230.2. The maximum afternoon temperature was 51°, with the sun shining and the sky tolerably clear.

August 26.-The descent from the pass lay over the faces of the beds of the schists, which dipped steeply to the north-north-east, the uptilted southern ends of which we had crossed during our ascent. The surface was well clothed with the plants common to alpine pastures, such as Potentilla, Ranunculus, Primula, Polygonum, etc., but afforded few new species. With the exception of a dwarf willow (Salix Lindleyana), which was found at 14,000 feet, the first woody plant met with was the birch, Betula utilis (Bhojpatra), which appeared at about 13,500 feet.

The change from the forest-clad mountains and luxuriant vegetation, with the soaking wet and clouds of the outer ranges through which we had come, to the dry and relatively sunny climate of the bare valley of Juhar was very striking, and most acceptable to all of us, and not less so to our herbarium, which, in the constant rain of the last few days, was not improving.

August 27.-We reached Milam, 11,400 feet, on August 27, and it at once became apparent that we had been long enough exposed to the vicissitudes of wet and heat, for almost every one of our servants had been attacked by intermittent fever, some of them rather severely. We fortunately did not suffer.

The highest inhabited part of the valley of the Gori, lying between 10,000 and 12,000 feet above the sea-level, is called Juhar. It is about 10 miles in length, with a bottom breadth of 1 or 2 miles, beyond which the mountains rise steeply, but not very abruptly in their lower portions. The summits of these mountains, for the most part, enter the region of perpetual snow, and most of the larger side ravines are occupied by glaciers. The vegetation is generally scanty, and, with the exception of a few stunted birch, a juniper or two, Juniperus communis and macropoda, near Milam, and a small cluster of Pinus excelsa near Tola, there are, I think, no trees whatever in this part of the valley. The shrubs also are diminutive and confined to a few species, the herbage, where not under the influence of a stream of water, being equally scanty. The flora, however, though poor, is interesting, as containing a very distinct proportion of Tibetan elements, no representatives of which spread into the Gori valley below Juhar. Of these may be mentioned Caragana pygmæa (versicolor), the commonest of the bushes of the Tibetan uplands, called in Tibetan "trama," but corrupted by the Bhotiyas into "dama." It is a thorny and usually a stunted shrub, which may be compared to our English furze. Other Tibetan forms are Clematis orientalis, Hippophaë rhamnoides, and species of Potentilla, Lonicera, and Pedicularis.

In the upper part of this valley we come upon the base of the great fossiliferous series of rocks that constitute the mountains forming the ranges on which are situated the principal passes into Tibet. To this line of elevation I have applied the general designation of the Indian watershed of the great Tibeto-Himalayan tableland. The occurrence of well-defined series of fossiliferous strata, first established by my observations during this journey, and those made in the following year in the neighbouring valley of Niti, is of special importance, as it supplies an unquestionable basis on which speculation as to the geological history of this vast mountain region may now be founded.

The most important village in Juhar is Milam; the next is Martoli, and, as a natural consequence, there is a feud between them. The men of Milam are, however, generally recognized to be the most enlightened and most enterprising of the Juharis, i.e. people of Juhar, and much superior to any other branch of the halfbred races, commonly spoken of as Bhotiyas, found along this part of the frontier between India and Tibet.

Milam, though large for Juhar, is in reality but a small village. The houses are usually built of stone, often whitewashed, two-storied, and roofed with slates. The inhabitants are almost wholly traders, agriculture being of quite secondary

importance with them. The crops, such as they are able to raise, are wheat, the beardless barley of Tibet, and two species of buckwheat, Fagopyrum esculentum, Ogal, and F. tataricum, Phaphar; besides mustard and turnips. The year of our visit the wheat and barley were very poor, hardly more than 15 inches in height, owing to an unfavourable season, with less rain than usual.

The trade with Tibet is carried on almost exclusively by the Bhotiyas distributed along the higher valleys of the Himalaya, the Tibetans taking little part in the carrying business on the south side of the passes. The chief articles dealt with are salt and borax from the Tibetan side, which are exchanged for grain from the Indian side, miscellaneous merchandise being taken to Gartok, a mart beyond the Satlaj. The inhabitants of the parts of Tibet contiguous to Kumaon and Garhwal-and the same may be said of those bordering on Nepal-are almost wholly dependent on foreign supplies of grain for their sustenance, their

own country being almost incapable of producing it. The population, however, ist so scanty that the quantity they require is small, and their poverty is such as to afford them little means of supporting an import trade in miscellaneous goods of any considerable value. The material difficulties of transit over the snowy mountains might seem likely to be nearly fatal to the development of the traffic carried on, as it is mainly on the backs of goats and sheep, which can only carry loads of 20 or 30 lbs. weight each. It has been estimated that the trade of Milam amounts in value to upwards of 60,000 or 70,000 rupees, each way, during the season. Fortunately, there is perfect free trade on our side, though the Tibetan authorities exact a duty on all imports.

A cross-breed of horned cattle, called jhobu, peculiar to the borders of Tibet, is also employed in this carrying trade, though less extensively than goats and sheep, the multiplication of which animals is favoured by the small number of beasts of prey, such as abound on the outer ranges of the Himalayas. The jhobu is used for the heavier and more bulky merchandise, as well as for riding by the more wealthy Bhotiyas. This breed, which is called jhobu by the Bhotiyas, and dzo by the Tibetans, is a cross between the Indian bull and the Tibetan or yak cow. The best are said to be raised in the neighbouring valley of

Niti. It is more tractable and less uncouth in its appearance than the shaggy yak, which has much of the fierce look of the bison. The yak is incapable of supporting a hot climate, to which the jhobu is better suited, being from its Indian blood less impatient of heat, and hence more fitted for the Bhotiya trade, which at times involves journeys into the warmer valleys of the Himalaya.

A good jhobu is valued at from twenty to thirty rupees, while a yak, called by the Tibetans chanwr, costs only seven to twelve rupees. The other cross-breed, between the chanwr bull and the Indian cow, is said to be far less valuable than the jhobu. These mule races are said to be sterile inter se, but to breed with the pure stock of either species.

The load of a jhobu is about 120 lbs., or equal to that of three men, and the ordinary distance they can travel in a day is about 10 or 12 miles. The cost of a goat or sheep varies from one to two rupees, and they are seldom driven more than 5 or 6 miles a day.

The Bhotiyas of Juhar are smart and intelligent men, decently educated, all things considered, and even have some knowledge of Hindi literature, such as it is. They are commonly short and stout, and some of them decidedly obese. Their dress consists of a long coat, called baku, the skirts reaching below the knee, of white or grey woollen cloth, with loose trousers to match. They are cheerful and well-mannered. Theft is unknown among them, and their chief vice is drunkenness, to which they are somewhat addicted.

We employed the interval required after our arrival at Milam for the necessary preparations for our journey into Tibet, in making an excursion up the great glacier which fills the head of the Gori valley, and from which that river issues, with the object, amongst others, of measuring its motion. The glacier terminates about a mile and a half above the village of Milam, at a height of about 11,590 feet above the sea. Its main trunk extends nearly 10 miles up the valley, which there ends abruptly in a ridge, on which is a cluster of snowy peaks, the altitudes of which are from 22,500 to 23,600 feet. Six tributary glaciers of smaller dimensions occupy as many ravines or valleys on the west, on which side the mountains are extremely lofty, culminating in the great peak of Nanda-devi, before referred to. Three smaller glaciers descend from the somewhat lower ridge to the east of the central valley. The ice from two or three of these tributaries does not, however, now join the main glacier, though it appears to have done so formerly from all of them.

The line that I selected on which to fix marks for the measurement of the motion of ice was 7 miles from the lower extremity of the glacier, which was here about 4000 feet across. The elevation of the surface of the ice was about 14,600 feet, and the highest part of the main stream of the glacier rose in a great dome of clear ice immediately above, reaching probably to a height of 15,000 or 16,000 feet. Beyond this the glacier bifurcated to the right and left, and the branches were lost sight of behind projecting angles of rock.

The most remarkable feature of this glacier was the immense quantity of débris with which its lower part was covered, so that for the last 5 miles no clear ice at all could be seen, the entire surface being concealed by a confused mass of rocks and débris, with many large pools of water scattered over it. The indications thus afforded of a great shrinkage of a glacier of former far greater proportions are everywhere confirmed. The lateral moraines show this in a striking manner. In many places several parallel lines are to be seen one within the other, left stranded on the valley floor, as the main body of the glacier has shrunk and subsided. The enormous accumulation of débris that has taken place at the extremity of the glacier entirely covers and conceals the ice, so that the terminal face, instead of