.
The wind blows through the gorge unceasingly, and penetrates to the
bone. On the left bank of the stream is the frozen waterfall, which
might be worshipped by the fanciful and superstitious as embodying the
genius of the place, hard and resistless, a crystallized monument of the
implacable spirit of Nature in these high places.

At Kamparab, where we camped, two miles higher up the stream, the
thermometer fell to 14 deg. below zero. Close by is the meeting-place of the
sources of the Ammo Chu. All the plain is undermined with the warrens of
the long-haired marmots and voles, who sit on their thresholds like a
thousand little spies, and curiously watch our approach, then dive down
into their burrows to tell their wives of the strange bearded invaders.
They are the despair of their rivals, the sappers and miners, who are
trying to make a level road for the new light ekkas. One envies them
their warmth and snugness as one rides against the bitter penetrating
winds.

Twelve miles from Gautsa a turn in the valley brings one into view of
Phari Jong. At first sight it might be a huge isolated rock, but as one
approaches the bastions and battlements become more distinct. Distances
are deceptive in this rarefied air, and objects that one imagines to be
quite close are sometimes found to be several miles distant.

The fort is built on a natural mound in the plain. It is a huge rambling
building six stories high, surrounded by a courtyard, where mules and
ponies are stabled. As a military fortification Phari Jong is by no
means contemptible. The walls are of massive stonework which would take
heavy guns to demolish. The angles are protected from attacking parties
by machicolated galleries, and three enormous bastions project from each
flank. These are crumbling in places, and the Pioneers might destroy the
bastion and breach the wall with a bag or two of guncotton. On the
eastern side there is a square courtyard like an Arab caravanserai,
where cattle are penned. The fortress would hold the whole Tibetan army,
with provisions for a year. It was evacuated the night before we
reconnoitred the valley.

The interior of the Jong is a warren of stairs, landings, and dark
cavernous rooms, which would take a whole day to explore. The walls are
built of stone and mud, and coated with century-old smoke. There are no
chimneys or adequate windows, and the filth is indescribable. When Phari
was first occupied, eighty coolies were employe