By Nine O'clock We Were
Ready To Start, Notwithstanding The Entreaties Of The Postmaster,
Whose Anxiety, However, Was Not On Our Account, But On That Of The
Horses.
"I don't believe I shall ever see them again!" he mumbled mournfully,
as we rode out of the yard.
"And who is to repay me for their loss?
You will be dead, too, before sundown, if the snow catches you in the
mountains!"
But there seemed no probability of such a contingency. The sky was
blue and cloudless, the sun so bright that the glare off the snow soon
became unbearable without smoked goggles. The promise of an extra
keran or two if we reached the end of the stage by daylight had a
wonderful effect on the Shagird. Though it was terribly heavy going,
and the snow in places up to our girths, we covered the five miles
lying between Patchinar and the foot of the Kharzan in a little over
three hours - good going considering the state of the road. We were as
often off the former as on it, for there was nothing to guide one;
nothing but telegraph poles and wires were visible, and these are
occasionally laid straight across country away from the track.
Our destination for the night was the village of Kharzan, which is
situated near the summit of the mountain, about six thousand feet
high. The ascent is continuous and precipitous. An idea may be gained
of the steepness by the fact that we now left the valley of the Shah
Roud, barely one thousand feet above sea-level, to ascend, in a
distance of about twelve miles, over six thousand feet.
The Kharzan Pass is at all times dreaded by travellers, native and
European, even in summer, when there are no avalanches to fear,
snow-drifts to bar the way, or ice to render the narrow, tortuous
pathway even more insecure. A serious inconvenience, not to say
danger, is the meeting of two camel caravans travelling in opposite
directions on the narrow track, which, in many places, is barely ten
feet broad, and barely sufficient to allow two horses to pass each
other, to say nothing of heavily laden camels. But to-day we were safe
so far as this was concerned. Not a soul was to be seen in the clefts
and ravines around, or on the great white expanse stretched out
beneath our feet, as we crept cautiously up the side of the mountain,
our guide halting every ten or fifteen yards to probe the snow with a
long pole and make sure that we had not got off the path.
A stiff and tedious climb of nearly seven hours brought us to within a
mile of the summit. Halting for a short time, we refreshed ourselves
with a couple of biscuits and a nip of brandy, and proceeded on our
journey. We had now arrived at the most dangerous part of the pass.
The pathway, hewn out of the solid rock, and about ten feet wide, was
covered with a solid layer of ice eight or ten inches thick, over
which our horses skated about in a most uncomfortable manner.
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