Abstract
IN the course of the address which he recently delivered before the Geographical Society upon the subject of his travels on the western frontier of China, Capt. W. J. Gill, R.E., gave an interesting account of his experiences on the borders of Thibet. He entered that land of mystery at Ta-chien-lu, whence the road at once ascends to the great plateau through a valley amongst granite rocks, capped at the summit with bare crags of limestone. Standing on the summit of the pass, by which the great upland country was reached, the traveller saw stretched below a fine valley closed in on both sides by gently sloping round-topped hills, covered with splendid grass. The road to Lithang was a succession of mountainous valleys, huge pine forests, and open glades. Capt. Gill found Lithang a cheerless place, some 12,500 feet above the sea-level. The natives told him that Ta-so, the last mountain-pass before reaching Bathang, was a very bad “medicine-mountain,”the inconvenience caused by the rarefaction of the air at these great altitudes being attributed by them to subtle exhalations. On the road thither Capt. Gill passed the magnificent mountain Nen-Da, 22,000 feet high, and near the top of Ta-so he entered a little circular basin, surrounded on all sides, but one by ragged precipices, with a pond of clear water at the bottom. On crossing the crest of the pass, he entered a large basin two miles in diameter, where a wild and savage scene presented itself to his sight: great masses of bare rock rising all round, torn into every conceivable shape by the rigour of the climate. The bottom of the basin was covered with the débris that had fallen from them, and some small pools of water in the hollows formed the sources of the stream, which eventually became a roaring torrent among the pine forests in the valleys below. Bathang, Capt. Gill found, had been recently rebuilt, after its destruction, a few years ago, in a frightful series of earthquakes, which, lasting for several weeks, devastated the whole neighbourhood. The town, he says, is chiefly remarkable for its immorality and its lamasery. Besides his description of the country Capt. Gill gave some interesting information respecting the habits of the Thibetans, contrasting them with those of the Chinese. Owing to their originally nomad mode of living they have no idea of inn accommodation, and the owner of a good house even will, as often as not, be found sleeping on the flat roof, whilst the hardy people in winter can sleep with their clothes half off and their bare shoulders in the snow; tables, chairs, and bedsteads are unknown in their houses. Thibet is a land flowing with milk and butter, the enormous quantity of the latter consumed by a Thibetan being very startling—butter in his oatmeal porridge, and huge lumps of butter in his tea. As a rule he does not drink much milk, which is mostly made into butter, but he is fond of sour cream, curds, and cheese; and this brings a Thibetan bill of fare to an end.
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GEOGRAPHICAL NOTES . Nature 18, 288–290 (1878). https://doi.org/10.1038/018288a0
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1038/018288a0