gorge, I had not the faintest
idea that I would have occasion to regret my foolish imprudence. I had
not realized its character. It was simply an enormous crevasse, rent by
some Titanic throe of nature, some tremendous earthquake, which had
split the granite mountain. In its bottom I could just distinguish a
hardly perceptible white thread, an impetuous torrent, the dull roar of
which filled the defile with mysterious and impressive sounds.

Far overhead extended, narrow and sinuously, a blue ribbon, the only
glimpse of the celestial world that the frowning granite walls permitted
to be seen. It was a thrilling pleasure, this majestic view of nature.
At the same time, its rugged severity, the vastness of its proportions,
the deathly silence only invaded by the ominous murmur from the depths
beneath, all together filled me with an unconquerable depression. I had
about eight miles in which to experience these sensations, at once sweet
and painful. Then, turning to the right, our little caravan reached a
small valley, almost surrounded by precipitous granite rocks, which
mirrored themselves in the Indus. On the bank of the river stands the
little fortress Khalsi, a celebrated fortification dating from the epoch
of the Musselman invasion, by which runs the wild road from Kachmyr to
Thibet.

We crossed the Indus on an almost suspended bridge which led directly to
the door of the fortress, thus impossible of evasion. Rapidly we
traversed the valley, then the village of Khalsi, for I was anxious to
spend the night in the hamlet of Snowely, which is placed upon terraces
descending to the Indus. The two following days I travelled tranquilly
and without any difficulties to overcome, along the shore of the Indus,
in a picturesque country--which brought me to Leh, the capital of Ladak.

While traversing the little valley of Saspoula, at a distance of several
kilometres from the village of the same name, I found "_t'horthenes_"
and two cloisters, above one of which floated the French flag. Later on,
I learned that a French engineer had presented the flag to the monks,
who displayed it simply as a decoration of their building.

I passed the night at Saspoula and certainly did not forget to visit the
cloisters, seeing there for the tenth time the omnipresent dust-covered
images of Buddha; the flags and banners heaped in a corner; ugly masks
on the floor; books and papyrus rolls heaped together without order or
care, and the inevit