From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor/Chapter 3

From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879)
Nikolay Przhevalsky (as Nicholas Prejevalski), translated by E. Delmar Morgan
Travels to Lob-Nor.
Chapter III
Nikolay Przhevalsky (as Nicholas Prejevalski)1928577From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor — Travels to Lob-Nor.
Chapter III
1879E. Delmar Morgan

CHAPTER III.

Wild camel hunters — Habits of this animal — Mode of killing it — Distinguishing marks — Its origin considered — Lake Kara-buran — Chon-Kul,or the Great Lake — Disappearance of the Tarim — Mode of fishing — Lake-dwellers — Animal life — Details of population — Appearance of natives; language; dwellings — Cloth made of Aselepias fibre — Domestic utensils — Occupations and religion — Marriage — Burial of dead — Expert boatmen — Existence in winter — Novel surroundings — Ornithology, extraordinary number of birds— Duck-shooting — Specimens for the collection — Migratory waterfowl — Climate — Departure of birds — Dust storms — Spring at Lake Lob— Return to Korla — Yakub-Beg's presents — Yulduz again — Spring vegetation — Return to Kulja — Close of expedition.

According to the unanimous testimony of the Lob-nortsi, the chief habitat of the wild camel at the present day is the desert of Kum-tagh, to the east of Lake Lob; this animal is also occasionally found on the Lower Tarim, in the Kuruk-tagh mountains, and more rarely still in the sands bordering with the Cherchen-daria; beyond the town of Cherchen, in the direction of Khoten, its existence is not known. Twenty years ago, wild camels were numerous near Lake Lob, where the village of Chargalik now stands, and farther to the east along the foot of the Altyn-tagh, as well as in the range itself. Our guide, a hunter of Chargalik, told us that it was not unusual in those days, to see some dozens, or even a hundred of these animals together. He himself had killed upwards of a hundred of them in the course of his life (and he was an old man), with a flint and steel musket. With an increase of population at Chargalik, the hunters of Lob-nor became more numerous, and camels scarcer. Now, the wild camel only frequents the neighbourhood of Lob-nor, and even here in small numbers. Years pass without so much as one being seen; in more favourable seasons again the native hunters kill their five and six during the summer and autumn. The flesh of the wild camel, which is very fat in autumn, is used for food, and the skins for clothing. These fetch ten tengas or a ruble and thirty copecks at Lob-nor.

The hunters of Lake Lob assured us that all the camels came from, and retired to, the Kum-tagh deserts. But these are entirely inaccessible, owing to the absence of water. At all events, none of the Lob-nortsi had ever been there. Some had made the attempt, starting from Chaglyk spring; but after struggling for a couple of days in loose sand-drift, where men and pack animals sank knee-deep, they became exhausted, and returned home unsuccessful. Total absence of water, however, there cannot be in the Kum-tagh; for if this were the case, camels could not live there; probably springs may be found which serve as drinking-places. These animals, like their domesticated congeners, are not particular as to food, and can, therefore, safely inhabit the wildest and most barren desert, provided that they are far removed from man.

During the excessive heats in summer, the camels are attracted by the cool temperature of the higher valleys of Altyn-tagh, and make their way thither to an altitude of 11,000 feet, and even higher, for our guides informed us that they are occasionally found on the lofty plateau on its southern side. Here the chief attraction for them are the springs of water, to say nothing of the greater abundance of camel's thorn (calidium), and their favourite, but less plentiful Hedysarum. In winter the wild camel keeps entirely to the lower and warmer desert, only entering the mountains from time to time.

Unlike the domesticated animal, whose chief characteristics are cowardice, stupidity, and apathy, the wild variety is remarkable for its sagacity and admirably developed senses. Its sight is marvellously keen, hearing exceedingly acute, and sense of smell wonderfully perfect. The hunters told us that a camel could scent a man several versts off, see him, however cautiously he might approach, from a great distance, and hear the slightest rustle of his footsteps. Once aware of its danger, it instantly takes to flight, and never stops for some dozens, or even hundreds of versts. A camel I fired at certainly ran twenty versts without stopping, as I saw by its traces, and probably farther still, had I been able to follow it, for it turned into a ravine off our line of march. One would suppose that so uncouth an animal would be incapable of climbing mountains; the contrary, however, is actually the case, for we often saw the tracks and droppings of camels in the narrowest gorges, and on slopes steep enough to baffle the hunter. Here their footprints are mingled with those of the mountain sheep (Pseudo Nahoor) and the arkari (Ovis Poli). So incredible did this appear, that we could hardly believe our eyes when we saw it. The wild camel is very swift, its pace being almost invariably a trot. In this respect, however, the domesticated species will, in a long distance, overtake a good galloper. It is very weak when wounded, and drops directly it is hit by a bullet of small calibre, such as the hunters of Lob-nor use.

The wild camel pairs in winter, from the middle of January nearly to the end of February. At such times the old males collect troops of some dozens of females, and jealously guard them from the attentions of their rivals. They have even been known to drive their wives into some secluded glen, and keep them in it as long as the rutting season lasts. At this period too frequent fights take place between the males, often terminating in the death of one or other of the combatants. An old male, when he has overpowered a younger and weaker antagonist, will crush his skull between his teeth.

Females bear once in three years, the period of gestation being rather over the year; the young camels are born, never more than one at a time, early in spring, i.e. in March. They are much attached to their dams. Should one of these latter be killed, the young camel takes to flight, returning, however, again later to the same spot. When caught young, wild camels are easily tamed and taught to carry a pack.

Their voice, very rarely heard, is a deep, lowing noise; in this way the dams call their young; males, even during the rutting season, utter no sound, but find their consorts by scent.

We were unable to learn the duration of a camel's life; some are known to live to a great age. Our hunter-guide once chanced to kill a he-camel, with teeth completely worn down, notwithstanding which the animal was in good condition.

The Lob-nortsi, who hunt the wild camel in summer and autumn, never go expressly in search of it, but kill them whenever they get the chance.

This sport is generally very difficult, and only three or four hunters in the whole district of Lob-nor engage in it. The ordinary mode of killing camels is by lying in wait for them at the watering-places, not by following on their fresh tracks. The hunters I sent out in search of this animal did not return to Lob-nor before the 10th March, but they were successful. On the border of the Kum-tagh they killed a male and female, and quite unexpectedly obtained a colt, by taking it from its dead mother's womb. This young camel would, in the natural course, have been born on the following day.

The skins of all three specimens were excellent, and had been prepared in the best way, by the hunters, to whom we had given lessons in the art of skinning and dressing. The skulls were also perfect. Some days afterwards I received another skin of a wild camel (male), killed on the Lower Tarim. This specimen was a little inferior to the others, because the animal from which it was taken, came from a warmer climate, and had already begun to shed its coat, besides having been unscientifically skinned. I need scarcely say how glad I was at length to procure the skin of an animal about which Marco Polo had written, but which no European had hitherto seen.[1]

From a zoological point of view there is little to distinguish the wild from the domesticated camel, and, as far as we could judge from a superficial glance, the differences are the following, viz.:—(a) there are no corns on the forelegs of the wild specimen; (b) the humps are half the size as compared with those of the tame breed,[2] and the long hair on the top of the humps is shorter; (c) the male has no crest, or a very small one; (d) the colour of all wild camels is the same—a reddish sandy hue; this is rare with domestic animals; (e) the muzzle is more grizzled, and apparently shorter; (f) the ears are also shorter. In addition to these peculiarities, wild camels are generally remarkable for their medium size; huge brutes such as are sometimes seen among their domestic brethren are never found in a wild state.

Now as to the question—are the camels found by us the direct descendants of wild parents, or are they domesticated specimens which have wandered into the steppe, become wild, and multiplied in a state of nature? Each of these questions can be answered both in the affirmative and negative. In South America we find an instance of domesticated animals running wild and multiplying, as where a few horned cattle and horses have escaped from the Spanish colonies and increased on the free pasture-lands into great herds. A similar instance, on a smaller scale, attracted my attention in Ordos, where, after the Dungan insurrection, in the course of some two or three years cows and bulls had become as wild and difficult to stalk as antelope.[3] But with regard to the multiplying of camels which had obtained their liberty, a difficulty arises in the circumstance of there being very few males of the domesticated kind fit for the stud, and lastly, the acts of breeding and birth are for the most part performed with the assistance of man. Assuming that the latter of these difficulties may disappear when leading a free life, the other nevertheless remains, i. e. the irremediable injury produced by castration. Few chances, therefore, remain of camels capable of breeding escaping; one exception must, however, be made in the case of interbreeding of wild male with female domesticated camels.

On the other hand, the localities fit for human habitation in the basin of Lob-nor are particularly ill-suited for camels, owing to the damp climate, insects, and bad food. Hence the population could hardly at any time have kept many, and now the Lob-nortsi keep none at all.[4]

Turning to the other proposition, i. e. that the wild camel of the present day is directly descended from wild ancestors, more weighty evidence may, I think, be adduced in support of this theory. It is true that besides the peculiarities we have already enumerated, this animal in its wild state possesses those qualifications developed in the highest degree which should enable it in its struggle for life to have every chance of preserving itself and its young. The admirable development of its external senses saves it from enemies; moreover these are very few in number in the localities that it inhabits—man and wolves being the only ones it has to encounter. Even wolves are rare in the desert, and would scarcely be dangerous to a full-grown camel. Besides being habitually wary, it will resort to the most inaccessible spots to avoid man, and it is probable that the sandy wastes to the east of Lake Lob have served time out of mind as its settled abode. Of course in earlier ages the limits of its distribution may have extended much farther than at the present time, when all that remains for it is the most remote corner of the great desert of Central Asia.

On comparing the above-mentioned data, it seems to me possible to arrive at the conclusion that the wild camel of the present day is the direct descendant of wild parents, but that from time to time escaped domesticated animals probably became mixed with them. The latter, or rather such as were capable of begetting stock, left offspring, and these in after-ages could not be distinguished from wild camels. But in order to decide this point finally it will be of importance to compare the skulls of the two varieties.


In the first days of February we returned to Lob-nor, of which with the Lower Tarim we will now speak.

After uniting near Airilgan ferry with the Kiok-ala-daria, the Tarim, as we have already said, flows for about seventy versts nearly due south, and then falls into, or rather forms by its discharge. Lake Kara-buran. This name signifies "black storm," and has been given to the lake by the natives on account of the great waves which rise on its surface during a storm; and also because with a wind from the east or north-east (most frequent in spring) the Kara-buran inundates the salt marshes for a great distance towards the south-west, so much so as to interrupt for a time the communications between the Tarim and the village of Chargalyk.

Lake Kara-buran itself is from thirty to thirty-five versts long, and ten to twelve versts wide. Its area, however, depends a good deal upon the quantity of water in the Tarim; with high water the flat shores of the lake are flooded for some distance, whilst with low water the salt marshes on its borders are uncovered. Lake Kara-buran is not above three to four feet deep, and in places even less than this, although occasional deep pools occur, and the open space free from reeds is comparatively larger than on Lob-nor. At the point where the Tarim flows into Kara-buran, another small stream, the Cherchen-daria, to which we have referred earlier, joins it from the west.

On issuing from Kara-buran the Tarim again appears as a river of some importance, but it soon rapidly diminishes, owing to the numerous canals by means of which the inhabitants draw off the water for fishing purposes. On the opposite bank the neighbouring desert continually encroaches upon the land capable of cultivation, scorching with its fiery breath every spare drop of moisture, and finally arresting the further progress of the river eastward. The struggle is over, the desert has gained the mastery over the river, life is swallowed up in death. But before finally disappearing, the Tarim forms by the overflow of its last waters an extensive reedy marsh known from ancient times as Lob-nor. The name Lob-nor as applied to the lake is unknown to the natives by whom the whole lower course of the Tarim receives this appellation, whilst the lake itself goes by the general name of Chon-kul (i. e. great lake) or more often Kara-kurchin, denoting the whole administrative district. In order to avoid confusion, I will continue to use the ancient name of Lob-nor.

This lake, or more strictly speaking this marsh, is in shape an irregular ellipse elongated from S.W. to N.E., its maximum length in this direction being ninety to a hundred versts, whilst its width nowhere exceeds twenty. Such at least is the description that the inhabitants give of it. As for myself, I could only explore the southern and western shores, and accomphsh a boat voyage down the Tarim to the centre of the lake ; farther than this it was not possible to advance, owing to the thick reeds and shallows, indeed the whole of Lob-nor is over-grown with reeds, leaving a belt of clear water (from one to three versts wide) along the southern shore, and small open spaces studded like stars over the reedy expanse.

From the accounts given us by the natives it appears that the lake was clearer and deeper thirty years ago. Since that time the stream of the Tarim continually decreased, and the lake became shallower as the reeds multiplied. This went on for twenty years, but during the last six the volume of water has been again on the increase, and as the former lake bed, choked with reeds, is no longer large enough to contain it, the river now overflows its shores.

In this way not very long ago the belt of clear water extending along the whole southern shore of Lake Lob was formed. Beneath the surface may be seen the roots and stumps of tamarisk trees, which once grew on dry land. The depth is for the most part only two or three feet, rarely four or six feet, and for 300 or even 500 paces from the shore barely exceeds one foot. The whole of Lob-nor is equally shallow, only here and there occur occasional pools, ten or at most twelve to thirteen feet deep. The water in all parts of the lake is clear and sweet, being brackish only round the shores, which are salt and swampy, devoid of all vegetation, and furrowed in ridges on the surface. These saline marshes surround the whole of Lob-nor; along the southern shore their width is from eight to ten versts, whilst on the east, according to the report of the inhabitants, they extend much farther till they blend with, the sands. Beyond the salt marshes, at all events on the south where I surveyed them, a narrow belt of tamarisk-trees follows the shore line, and beyond this again a pebbly plain rising considerably though gradually to the foot of Altyn-tagh. This was probably in remote times the border of Lake Lob itself, which at that period overflowed its shores, and was therefore far more extensive, and probably deeper and less obstructed by reeds than at present. What caused the diminution of the lake, and whether this phenomenon was periodical or not, I cannot say. But the fact that almost all the lakes of Central Asia show signs of desiccation is well known. Let us now say a few words about the Tarim.

At the western extremity of Lake Lob, near the village of Abdallah, this river has still a width of 125 feet, greatest mean depth fourteen feet, velocity of current 170 feet per minute, sectional area 1270 square feet, channel troughs-shaped as before.

Below Abdallah the Tarim rapidly diminishes in size. Thus twenty versts lower its width is no more than fifty to fifty-six feet, and twenty versts lower still twenty to thirty feet, although its depth is from seven to ten feet, and the velocity of its stream considerable. For twenty versts farther the Tarim continues to flow as a brook of this kind, making several sharp bends, and at length entirely disappearing in the reeds. Farther to the north-east, and even before going so far, extend reedy and for the most part impassable marshes. It is impossible to cleave a passage even for the smallest canoe through this dense growth of canes, growing to a height of twenty feet and upwards in some places, and measuring one inch in the diameter of the stems. These monster canes fringe in one continuous alley the banks of the Tarim itself, whilst in shallower and more stagnant places grows water asparagus (Hippuris). Besides the canebrake we found all over Lob-nor cat's tail (Typha) and water-gladiole (Butomus); but of other water-plants, at least in early spring, there are none.

There is an abundance of fish in the lake of the same two kinds as in the Tarim, viz. marena (Coregonus marœna), and another of the carp family unknown to me. The first mentioned is by far the most plentiful in Lob-nor. The inhabitants call it balik, i. e. fish in general, and the other with a spotted back, the tazek-balik. Both kinds spawn in March.

The fishing begins in the early spring, and terminates late in the autumn. Small nets are used for this purpose in which the fish entangle themselves. The usual and most profitable method practised by the inhabitants may be described as follows:—a convenient spot having been selected for the purpose, a passage is cut into the Tarim (whose level, as we have already observed, is higher than the flats alongside it) water then pours out upon the plain, and a shallow but wide-spreading lake gradually forms, into which the fish find their way through the channel from the river. In May the opening is blocked up and the water ceases to flow. During the summer the great evaporation gradually dries up these artificial lakes, except in the deeper parts where the fish all congregate, and about the month of September the natives proceed to take them; for this purpose a small aperture is again made, and a net placed there. The lake-fish, tired with their long confinement in the small pools, no sooner feel the rush of fresh water from the river than they hasten to meet it, and are caught in the trap. In this way the take is sometimes very large, and supplies are thus laid in for the winter. Moreover the inhabitants say that the long confinement in stagnant water impregnated with the salt of the soil makes the fish fat, and gives them a fine flavour.

As the banks of the Tarim upon entering the lake are flat, the dwellers on Lob-nor cannot employ the same method of ensuring food for the winter, but wherever it is possible they dig trenches between the river and the lakelets, and place nets there. Owing, however, to the vast quantity of fish, other modes of taking them are equally successful. We were told that Lob-nor freezes over in November,[5] and thaws early in March, the ice being from one to two feet thick.

In winter when frost drives southwards the innumerable water-fowl, animal life becomes very scarce. At such times the reeds are only tenanted by small flocks of the bearded titmouse (Panurus barbatus), Cynchramus schœniclus, and C. pyrrhuloides. Now and again a kite (Circus rufus, C. cyanus) wings its noiseless, stealthy flight overhead. In the salt marshes along the shore you may occasionally flush a covey of small larks (Alaudula leucophæa?); woodpeckers, Rhodopophilus deserti, and Passer ammodendri are sometimes found in the tamarisk bushes; black crows (C. orientalis) haunt the villages, and an occasional chough (Podoces Biddulphii) may be found on the drier ground. If to these be added a few pheasants,[6] and wintering meadow-pipits, swans and bitterns, our list of the avi-fauna of Lob-nor will be complete.

The commonest forms of mammalia are the tiger, wolf, fox, wild boar, hare, and djiran, all in small numbers; of the lesser rodents, even such as sand-martens and mice, there are but very few.

In spring, however, especially at its commencement, Lob-nor is literally alive with water-fowl. Situated in the very midst of a wild and barren desert, half-way between north and south, it serves without doubt as an admirable resting-place for birds of passage, belonging to the web-footed and wading orders.

Were there no Tarim water-system, their flight would doubtless take a very different direc- tion. But for this lake, they would find no resting-place between India and Siberia, and the winged travellers could never cross in one flight the whole distance from the Himalayas to the Tian-Shan.

Before proceeding to describe spring on Lob-nor, let us say a few words about its inhabitants, the Kara-Kurchintsi, who inhabit eleven villages mostly situated in the midst of Lob-nor; of these the following is a list: Cheglik, six houses; Tuguz-ata, eleven; Abdallah, six; Kuchak-ata, two; Kum-chapkan, fifteen; Kum-luk, four; Uitun, five; Shakel, four; Kara-Kurchin, two villages with four houses in each; besides these, nine families are settled at Chargalyk. The Kara-Kurchintsi therefore number some seventy families, with a population of 300 souls of both sexes.

The increase of population at Lob-nor is very trifling, the reason of course being the unfavourable conditions of life there. Five or six children in a family are rare, the usual number being two or three, and sometimes there are none at all.

In earlier but not very remote times Lob-nor was far more numerously populated than it is now; it numbered then some 550 families, two-thirds of whom lived on the lake itself, but twenty years ago the small-pox destroyed in the course of a few months nearly all the inhabitants, and most of those who survived had been attacked by the disease. However, even these insignificant remnants of the former people of Lob-nor were only preserved in their primitive state within the lake itself. The other inhabitants had already commenced an altered mode of life; they kept flocks of sheep, and bred homed cattle in small numbers, sowed corn and made bread of it. This change for the better, at all events in agriculture, began not very long ago under the influence of the Khoten immigrants living at Chargalyk, and it is in the neighbourhood of this village that the native population sow their wheat in the latter half of March, there being no land suitable for the purpose at Lob-nor itself.[7]

The favourable opportunity now afforded me of seeing all that was left of the primitive life of the inhabitants of Lob-nor,[8] was so much the more valuable, as in the course of a decade or two what I am now relating will seem like a tradition of bygone times.

In appearance the inhabitants of Kara-Kurchinia and the Tarim present a strange mixture of facial types, some of which call to mind the Mongolian race. The prevailing characteristics are however Aryan, though far from pure. As far as I could judge, the distinctive traits of a native of these parts are height, rather below the average; frame, weak and hollow-chested; cheekbones prominent, and chin pointed; beard scanty and à l'Espagnole; whiskers even smaller; hair on the face generally of feeble growth; lips often thick and protruding; teeth white and regular, and skin dark, whence their name (Kara-Kurchin, i. e. black Koshun) may be derived.

One language prevaUs among all the inhabitants of this region. It is said to resemble closely the dialect of Khoten, but to be distinct from that of Korla and Turfan. The inhabitants on the Tarim and Lob-nor are in general descended from a common stock, whilst those on the latter fell more under the influence and influx of foreigners from the oases at the foot of the Tian- Shan.

Now for a few words on the lake-dwellers of Lob-nor. And first about their habitations.

As the traveller descends the narrow, tortuous channel of the Tarim between rows of huge canes, he suddenly comes upon three or four boats moored to the river bank, and farther on a clear space on which, closely grouped together, stand some square, reed-made enclosures. This is a village. Its inhabitants, startled at the unusual sight of a stranger, have hidden themselves, and are taking a furtive look through their reed walls, but recognizing the rowers as their own people, and their chief among them, they come forward and assist in mooring the boats. You land and look around—nought to be seen but marsh and reeds, not a dry spot anywhere; wild duck and geese are paddling about close to the dwelling-place itself, and an old wild boar is quietly wallowing in the mud almost between the houses. So little does the native of these parts resemble a man, that even the shy wild animal fears him not!

Let us enter. Here is a square enclosure made of reeds, the only building material, for even the posts supporting the sides and corners of the enclosure are made of sheaves of them bound toPage:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/127 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/128 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/129 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/130 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/131 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/132 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/133 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/134 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/135 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/136 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/137 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/138 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/139 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/140 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/141 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/142 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/143 In two or three days the number of ducks was diminished by one half. For nights in succession we heard the noise of the departing flocks. They rarely started in the daytime, but at night they sped onwards without turning to right or left. By the 10th or 12th of March the chief exodus was over; the birds had left Lob-nor as quickly as they had come. Again the lake was deserted by the bulk of its February visitants; but the few that remained to nest now began living in a more spring-like fashion. The call-notes of ducks and geese, the shrieks of gulls, the booming cry of the bittern, and the whistle of the coot were more frequent. In the evenings the reeds resounded with the crake of the water-rail. These were all; no other songsters enlivened the dreary marshes of Lob-nor.

During the whole of March the arrival of new birds was very deficient both in variety and numbers.® Vegetation, notwithstanding the warm weather which had set in, slumbered as in winter. Not till the very last days of March did the young green shoots of the reeds begin to spring up and

In the first half of this month there appeared Orut cinerea, Lanius UahellinuSy Buteo vulgaris, Pelicanus crispus, Anas querquedula, Saxicola leucomela, Mergiu merganser, Fodiceps minor, JE^lites cantiantu. In the latter half of March arrived Stumus vulgaris F Oypselus murariuSy Sylvia currueaf Numenius arquatus, Milvus ater, Saxicola airigularis, Hirundo rmtica, Ciconia nigra, Cyanecula ccerulecula, and Hgpsibates himantopus. Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/145 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/146 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/147 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/148 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/149 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/150 exist on chilly Yulduz; of snakes and lizards there are none, and only an occasional toad or frog may be caught near a marshy spring.

Early in June we crossed the Narat range, on the southern slopes of which the spring flora was more abundant than in Yulduz, and descended to the headwaters of the Tsanma. Here the climate and vegetation bore a totally different aspect: forests of spruce fir and thick grass two feet high clothed the valley and slopes of the mountains. Rain fell daily; the rich black soil was saturated with moisture like a sponge, and we found the same humidity in the neighbouring valley of the Kunges, only that in the latter, owing to its lower elevation, vegetation was even more advanced, and flowers more profuse.

Our herbarium received considerable accessions. On the other hand, contrary to our expectations, comparatively few nesting birds were found either on the Tsanma or Kunges, the cause probably being the extremely wild nature of the country, avoided by small birds[9] in particular. Now, too, clouds of gnats and flies made their appearance, from which there was no escape day or night. Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/152 Page:From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lob-Nor (1879).djvu/154

  1. [This is a mistake, Marco Polo makes no mention of the wild camel. The earliest credible record we have of it is that of Shah Rakh's envoys in 1420. See Cathay, &c., 1, cc., and introduction to Prejevalsky's Mongolia,—M., &c.]
  2. The flesh of an eleven-year-old camel obtained for us from Tarim had not been removed, so that we could easily take the measurement. The result was that the humps of this full-grown male were only seven inches high, whilst those of domestic camels not unfrequently measure 1½ ft., and even more.
  3. [Cf. Mongolia, i. 212.]
  4. In other parts, however, of Eastern Turkestan there are plenty of camels, and probably there were more in ancient times, when the relations of this country with China were closer than they are now.
  5. Sometimes in the early part, sometimes not till the end of this month.
  6. The same kind as on the Tarim and Kaida-gol.
  7. Besides this a little corn is sown on some land on the Djagansai-daria, near the site of a ruined town.
  8. About the middle of March, when the ice had finally thawed, I visited all the Lob-nor villages in a boat.
  9. The most common on the Tsanma were Carpodacus erythrinus, Sylvia superciliosa, Cuculus canorus, Scolopax rusticola, and Turdus viscivorus in the forests; Crex pratensis, Sylvia cinerea, Salicaria sphenura? Pratincola indica in the meadowland. On the Kunges, besides those we have mentioned, must be added Scops zorca, Oriolus galbula, Columba œnas, Columba sp., Columba palumbus, Salicaria locustella, and others.