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IN AND BEYOND THE HIMALAYAS

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IN AND BEYOND THE
HIMALAYAS

A RECORD OF SPORT AND TRAVEL
IN THE ABODE OF SNOW

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BY

S. J. STONE

LATE DEPUTY INSPECTOR-GENERAL OF POLICE, WESTERN CIRCLE
NORTH-WEST PROVINCES OF INDIA

ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES WHYMPER

EDWARD ARNOLD
(pufifte^er fo f^c 3n&io Office
LONDON NEW YORK

37 Bedford Street 70 Fifth Avenue

1896

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' ' * •• • « '

«. »

CARPENTife."fi

PREFATORY NOTE

The narratives of journeys contained in this book were
published from time to time in The Asian, India's only
sporting paper. They now appear in a new dress, having
been revised, rearranged, and entirely rewritten, for the
perusal of a wider public.

gas-isg

CONTENTS

PART I
A ST OR, KASHMIR

PAGK

Introductory 1

CHAPTER I

JOURNEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

Sopar to Bandpiira — Present condition of the village — A globe-
trotter and his bag — The start — Lagging coolies — A Panjabi
fakir on the tramp — My first brown bear — A tramp in the dark —
Bagtor village— The Krishganga vallej'— A good find for stags
— Elastic bridge — Sharafa's predicament — The Gagai nala —
Crossing the pass— A British colonel — A snowstorm — Marmai
and its inhabitants — Procuring transport — Description of the
place — Village of Diril — Village of Chhagam— Nanga Parbat —
Colony of Kashmiri horse-thieves — Gurikot — Wazir Rozi Khan's
family — Evening tea — A British sportsman on his return —
Astor — Wazir Rozi Khan — His wife subsidised by the Maharajah 4

CHAPTER II

THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

Boundaries of the district — The Astor river — The valley — General
aspect of the country — The people of Astor — The Diirds — Their
repugnance to the cow — Government of the DSrd nation — Forts
of Astor and Bunji — Civil administration — The game animals of
Astor — The nmrkhor — The ibex — The urin— The brown bear —
Localities frequented by game . . . . . . . 17

PAGE

viii CONTENTS

CHAPTER III

MAKKHOR SHOOTING

Start for marklior ground — Tragic tale of " Bliup Singh's Parhi" —
My shooting establishment — My first stalk — Dangerous ground
— Firing down a precipice — A good shot — Bag my first markhor
— Another hunt — Mysterious markhor, not approachable — Leave
Garai nala — Weak-eyed Khi'ishal Khan — Bad road — A travelling
bear — Kashmiri system of road-making — The Maharajah's sappers
and miners — A heart-breaking road — Two sappers of the Kashmir
Engineers in very bad case — Ramghat and its bridge — The guard
in charge — Pass a bad night — The Buuji plain — Good iirin ground
— Biinji — The commandant of the fort — He makes a lucky mis-
take— Cross the Indus — Reach Damot village — A pleasant spot —
Wazir Bughdor Shah 36

CHAPTER IV

mIrkhoii .shooting — {continued)

Village of Damot — Compulsory labour — March up the valley — Good
signs of markhor — One killed by leopard — Theory regarding
horns — A night out — A black bear's family — A fatiguing and
useless ascent — Game not visible — Meet a brown bear, but lose
my chance — Sight a markhor at last — The stalk impossible — A
tramp of thirteen hours — Find a fifty-two inch horn— Marklior
get the upper hand — An extemporised observatory — Begin a stalk
of twenty-four hours — Failure at first — Great exposure — A bad
night under a rock — Hard work again — Make bad shooting — A
last and luck}' shot — Bag a forty-seven incher — A "halaling"
dispute — The theory of "halaling" — Dimensions of markhor
shot 50

CHAPTER V

MARKHOR shooting — {continued)

Begin another hunt — Sharafa kills a snake — Eagles' chase after a
snow-cock — Markhor tactics — "Watching game — Hard work and
no reward — Mirza Khan in fault — Lose a splendid chance —
Legend of the Major and the Saint of Ghor — Change our ground
— Sight game — Our cautious (and ridiculous) tactics — Bag the
markhor at last — A candid confession — An undisputed "haldl"
— Mirza Khan's capacity for meat — Another shooting-box of
Mirza Khan's— Spend a night in a watercourse — A bit of

CONTENTS ix

PAGE

Kashmir in a rongli setting— Inhabited by a microscopic but
hugely vicious fly — Wily niarkhor — Bad going — Mirza Khan
makes a slip — Long shots — Very dangerous ground — Rain and
snow in a tight camping-place — My rocky home — Cross the
same dangerous ground again — Mirza Khan makes another slip
— A bad two seconds on the brink of iirospective eternity — Bad
weather conquers — Markhor shooting ends .... 64

CHAPTER VI

IBEX SHOOTING

Gluttony of my table-servant — Search for ibex — Grand view from a
peak — A successful stalk — And curious shot — Mirza Khan is
delighted — The Wazir is anxious for my safety — Suspect a con-
spiracy to frighten me — My servant's condition — -Yearning for
cooked food — Another unsuccessful hunt — A noisy camp — A
conflagration in a tight place — -Arrange for a hunt near the crest
of the range — Try my hand at ibex-curry — Filthy Kashmiri
habits — Limited quarters in a goat-shed — Bad weather beats us
again — Leave the ground — Mark down three huge bucks — The
stalk — Awkward jiosition for a shot — Hill-crows are pleased
— Very familiar and intelligent birds — Their manners and
customs — A letter from the Biinji commandant — My supplies
are stopped — Ibex shooting comes to an end — Square accounts
with Mirza Khan and company ....... 81

CHAPTER VII

BEAU SHOOTIXG

Return to Bunji — A nervous Kashmiri^Tlie Indus and Kashmiri
boatmen — My raw table - servant — Reach Astor — Settling with
Rozi Khan and company — A bi-coloured stream — The Kashmir
army at drill — The commandant — The major — Attained his
majority before he was born — Reach Chhagam — Bad weather
and great discomfort — The Mi'r Malik valley — Flower-carpets —
Another difficult dining performance — Power of the evil eye —
Shoot a musk-deer— Effect of the "450 hollow bullet — The voice
of young Bruin betrays his mother — Maternal love — A long
stalk — Bag my first bear — A beautiful evening — A bear escapes
— Stalk two others — How they disported themselves — Bag only
one through a mistake — A splendid trophy — Proceed farther up
the valley — A magnified fox— Cross the pass — Sharafa slips, but
saves the rifle — In Giires again . . . . . . .101

X CONTENTS

CHAPTER VIII

BEAU SHOOTING — [contimoecl)

PAGE

The beautiful Phuhvain valley — Good for stags in tlie season — A
dangerous pathway — Reach Bagtour — Beautiful Krishganga
valley — Anticipating a bogus tliunderstorin — Waiting for an
unpunctual Ijear — Sharafa's imaginary ailments — Shoot a musk-
deer — Tremendous power of Henry's "450 Express — Musk-deer
numerous — How they are slaughtered —The Hant valley — Nanga
Parbat — Legends about it— How the "naked mountain" was
named — The nomenclature of Himalayan peaks — Ibex not at
home — A snow-cock's family — The i)Ower of maternal love —
Delude a coolie — -Waiting for a bear — A friendly hill-crow turns
him out of cover — A painful stalk — Ends in failure — Wounded
bear esca[)es — Two graceful hinds — Little flies cause great
irritation — Hill-crows drive a musk-deer over me — A bear's
bed-chamber — My shooting trip comes to an end — Return
journey ........... 117

PART II

CHANG-CHEN-MO, TIBET

CHAPTER IX

THE rUOVIXCE OF LADAKH, AND THE WAY THITHER

The happy hunting gi'ound of the Englishman — How he takes his sport
— General description of the country — Start from Lahore — Road as
far as Sultanpur— The transport difficulty — My travelling kit —
Details of arrangements — Chamurti, my Tibetan pony — Fifteen
coolie-loads for a six months' trip — The Kulu valley — English-
men settled there — Flying-foxes — Destruction caused by them —
Game in Kulu almost entirely destroyed — A sporting tour round
the Kiilii valley — The Ralah bungalow — Crossing the Rotang —
Native servants — Chanu'irti's ]iranks — My spirits rise with the
elevation — Koksar bungalow — Reach Kailang .... 129

CHAPTER X

THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

Kailang — Unavoidable delay — A difference in temperature — The
Moravian Mission — Thakur Hari Singh — His travels — Lahouli

CONTENTS xi

PAGE

Buddhists— The district of Lahoul— A sporting trip recommended
—Resume the march- The last villages— A pass into Zanskar—
The fall of a mountain on a village— Patsio annual fair and
market— Filthy surroundings— Put up a bridge— Rather un-
successfully—Zingzingbar— Halt at Choten-rong-jeun— A cold
camphig-place— Bad weather begins— Collapse of Indian servants
—Alter niv plans— Mules and servants dispensed with— Two

142
Lamas turn up ....■•■■■

CHAPTER XI

THE JOURNEY TO LADAKII— (COTlWjlMfif^)

"VVe force the pass at last— Yakub in a bad way— Height of Tibetan
passes— A frozen lake— A grand sno\\-y panorama— AVater-parting
of the Indus and Chinab— Nasman-Nisman camp- Saichu camp
—Meet the first Tibetan traders to Patsio — Their sheep — Salt
trade — Kiam camp — Enter Kashmir territory — Sumdo camp
—More sheep — Lachalang Pass crossed — Effect of rarefied
atmosphere — First game animal seen— Pangta camp — Ponies
stray— Reach Rupshu plains— A long march— Rokchen camp-
Examine a sportsman's bag— Picked-up heads— Test of made-up
trophies— Great cold at Rokchen— Coolies paid up— Yaks engaged
—Plateau of Rupshu— Meet a sportsman from Calcutta— Leave
Rokchen — Tso-kar salt-lake — Sheldrakes — Their nests— Polo-
konka Pass— Tibetan cairns adorned with horns— The Piiga
valley— Raldong camp— Varying temperatures— Reach the river
Indus— Delay in crossing— Yahajaha camp— Lamas' encampment
—Shoot a black wolf— Description of him— First limit after nyan
—The valley of frozen lakes— Get on the wrong side of the pass
— A Tibetan beggar — See some nyan — Reach the Mirpa-tso—
Three impressions of Ladakh — Cross the Thaota-la — Reach
Slnishal at last 1^4

CHAPTER XII

NYAN (OVI.S AMMON) SHOOTING

The village of Shushal— Its mud " bangla "—Arrange for the shoot-
i,ig-loid Tashi— Treatment of native shikaris— Hardiness of
Tibetan ponies— Start for shooting ground— Sarap again— No
post— One of the hardships of Tibetan travelling— Sarap deposed
—My boy head shikari— The regular Kashmir shikar establish-
ment—First sight of nyan— My first stalk— My boy shikari does
splendidly— Bag my first Oris «;h?«o?i— Camp out— The Pangur-
tso— On the border— Some more nyan— The old ram's cautious
generalship— A successful stalk— Habits of the nyan— The valleys

xii CONTENTS

PAGE

near the Pangi'ir-tso — Cloudy -weather — Another nyan hunt — Six
hours in a shallow trench — A trying ordeal — The nyan score this
time — A desperate rush — Sight the nyan again — A long shot —
Bag one — Return to camp — After nyan again — Nonplussed by
idiotic kiangs — The hunting ground — An excursion suggested
— Big heads are getting scarce — Causes of their disappearance —
Old rams are adepts at concealment — Return to Shiishal . . 175

CHAPTER XIII

SPORT IN CHAXG-CnEX-MO

Paljour, the old shikari — Savap is "run in" — His iniquities — Leave
Shiishal — The Pangong lake — Its absent beauties — Reverend Mr.
Redslob — Dalgleish's murderer — Reverend Dr. Lansdell — Com-
missariat and transport for a month's trip — The "Great River"
— Kiam camp — Bag my first Tibetan antelope — Description of
the Chang-chen-mo country — Gograng camp — Madmar camp —
Explore the Chang-lung — Nyan at last — A fatiguing stalk —
Another tramp — Miss chanku (wolf) — Servants from Leh arrive
— Yakub's hard work comes to an end — A rare servant — A final
exploration — Curious glaciers in Gograng — A weird and oppres-
sive scene^Inaecurate mai)S — Return to Kiam — Correct name of
Gograng — A change in the weather for the worse . . . 194

CHAPTER XIV

DONG (wild yak) SHOOTIXCJ

Start on the hunt — Shoot an antelope — The first dong track —
Paljour takes up the scent— A black spot in the distance — Re-
solved into a bull-yak — Seventy yards range — I miss the target,
four feet by six — The second shot tells — The bull slows down —
Circumvent him at last — A butcherly business — The usual
reaction — Piercing cold — The Tibetan gale — A snowstorm —
Exhaustion — Tea and blankets — No remedy — The frozen
dong — A splendid trophy — Bullets and their wounds — Hunting
twenty thousand feet above sea level — The temperature falls —
No water procurable — Yakub's excitement over the dong's head
and hide — Yakub a keen sportsman — How he hunts the
tailless Tibetan rat successfully — Weight of the dong's head —
Length of the horns — The hunt continued — Tibetan gi'ouse —
More \vild yak — A successful stalk — "500 bore bullets and their
effect on the dong — Shepherds and sheep — How the Maharajah
trades — The Champa robbers — Their depredations — Varying tem-
peratures— Three wild yak bagged in a week — A record perform-
ance— Give up the hunt — Weights and measurements of heads
and horns — Details of cost of expedition 211

CONTENTS xiii

CHAPTER XV

STAG AND BEAR SHOOTIXG IX KASHMIR

PAOK

To Leh, capital of Ladakh — Route from Leh to Kashmir — Leave it at
Shargul— March to Soru— Story of General Zorawar Singh and
his death — From Sorii to Siiknis — A human skeleton — Details
of fatal accident to Dr. Genge and his party — The Suknis bear
and his harem — Master of the village crops— Cannot find him
— Stag-shooting in the upper Wardwan — Honking (driving) is
unsuccessful — A stag calls — Go for him— Just in time — Difficulty
in "haldling" — An hysterical coolie — A fine trophy — March for
the valley — ^ly first bear — Bad weather again — A forty-eight
hours' snowstorm — Bear-shooting is ruined — A sociable snipe —
Cross over into the valley — Five days' hard work — Result, a
stag and a bear — Shooting tour comes to an end — Joined by
Yakub and Chamurti — The latter's adventures — Yakiib lionised
at home — Is feted bj' nawabs — How he died .... 232

PAET III
BEHIND THE HIMALAYAS— A PEEP IXTO TIBET

CHAPTER XYI

THE BASPA VALLEY

A tliree months' tour — Description of the valley — The river — Villages
— People — Climate — Theog — Mattiana — Sarahan — Meet my
friend — Rajah of Basdhir — He has tiffin — Is a keen sportsman
— "Well educated in English — Kilba — Headquarters of Forest
officer — Large staflf of woodcutters — How they are fed — Lay in
my supplies — How I managed my transport — Enter the Baspa
valley — Villages on the road — The course of the river — A trans-
formation scene — Sangla village — The level valley — An ancient
lake — The passes — Sheep — Sheep-stages — Difference between
Tibetan and Himalayan sheep — The upper valley and river
— Bad road — Miserable huts — "Wild women — More information
regarding passes, roads, etc. — Chitkiil ..... 247

CHAPTER XVII

THE UPPER BASPA

Bad weather— A plurality of fathers — "Garokchs" — The village god
— How he was propitiated — Proceed to the upper valley — My

xiv CONTENTS

first barhal-stalk — A "bootless" tramp — A good shot — Anparh,
tlie shikiiri, is not wasteful — The side valleys of the upper Baspa
— Dangerous pathway — A stone-shoot — Narrow escape of my
servant — B:ilti coolies behave well — A chance at a ram — A good
shot — The wily ram shelves himself — Yakub's ascent after lawful
mutton — The ram is perverse — Halaled at last — " Never again,"
says Yaki'ib — A grand panorama — Anparh's tactics — Temperature
of the valley — Heavy snowstorm — Elevation of the camp — Of the
Gugerang Pass — Tibetans and their sheep — An ugly specimen of
humanity — I fall ill — Uncertain weather continues — Flowers
peep out with doubting hearts — Indisposition, blue devils,
collapse — A quick recovery ....... 257

CHAPTER XVIII

THE rpPEK BASPA — (continued)

Another stalk — Ends in failure — But bag a ram next day — Excellent
though unsanctified chops — The god Kardu is sq^iared at last —
Features of the upper valley — A tramp among the hill - tops
— 17,000 feet above sea level — Freezing cold and melt-
ing heat again — The Tibetan gale drives us back — Driven to
bed in desperation — An airy bedroom — • Nature freezes most
audibly — Give up my intended tramp — Take a walk round the
base of the peak — Return to camp — A snowstorm — Beautiful
effect in moonlight — A dash for Tibet— Anparh— An enlivening
episode — Garh walls try to trade on their own account — Tibetans
object 270

CHAPTER XIX

FIRST STEPS IN TIBET

Danam Panboh recovers his sheep — A young Tibetan — His intelligence
more apparent than his moustache — Tibetan officials — Anparh is
unwilling to make a start — Slakes up his mind at last — Arsamang
camp — The way up — A scene of desolation — Rampant moraines
mounting on each other — First view of Giigerang Pass — Reach
the crest — And enter Tibet — A Balti coolie falls ill — Too much
"piiltas" the cause — A new dish — Fraternal devotion — Pechang
— The Baltis meet an old friend — Are greatly comforted — -Ascend
a side valley — No game seen — Unique scenery on the road — A
disrupted mountain — Stunted trees appear — Rana — Namitatto —
Green fields appear — Yellow furze ...... 283

CONTENTS XV

CHAPTER XX

AMONG THE TIBETANS

PAGE

Camp discovered by two old women— First Tibetans arrive — Marriage
customs — The real Panboh of Zarang — He stands on his dignity
— Tibetan manners— A Tibetan game described — Tibetan ponies
— Her Majesty's silver countenance changes the aspect of affaii-s
— Anparli's dilemma — The agreement ratified — The return
visit — I hold an exhibition — Panboh and pocket-knife — Tea
and biscuits — Tibetan mode of expressing satisfaction — Napier
Johnstone — Tandup — His classical oblation — Primitive way of
cleaning a dish — The Panboh polishes his fangs — Tibetan humour
— Preparing for a feast — Buy some curiosities — A welcome
present from Mrs. Chering — Tibetan gratitude — The feast —
The Panboh and his followers depart — True version of the
Garhwiili episode — Chinese exclusiveness — Lamas of Tangi inter-
view me — A present of three articles — A regular passport system
— How trade is carried on ....... . 292

CHAPTER XXI

A MARCH IN TIBET

Start from Tangi — -A curious natural bridge — Tandup, my guide —
After rams again — A succession of blunders — A back view of
the Himalayas — A Tibetan landscape — Force of the wind — The
infant Ganges — The Sangyokh-la— Reach the regular trading
route — Traces of barhal numerous — Run into a flock of rams
— Make a large bag without any trouble — Puling Sumdo —
Tandup Zangbo — His manners and customs — His companion —
Dismiss my Tibetans— Tandup's wives — Presents for them — A
good place for barhal-shooting — Rams about the camp — Meet
the people frem Ni'lang — I meet Pare — Information regarding
game — First intimation of a wholesale murderer — Meet Bow
Singh, the arch-impostor — Arrange a shooting trip with him —
Bow Singh claims two nationalities — Meaning of the word
"Jadh" — Bow Singh's temptation ...... 306

CHAPTER XXII

THE LAST HUNT

bad beginning — A very awkward ascent- Benighted — A good
sleep and a square meal — An unsuccessful stalk — Massacre of the
ewes — Twenty rams in view — The stalk — Forebodings of failure

xvi CONTENTS

PAGK

— Bad weather — A sporting official — New way of stalking wild
sheep — The official and the pig-tail — Traces of Tibetan game —
Bow Singh plays me false — Return to Puling Sumdo — Dismiss
Bow Singh with a flea in his ear — A Tibetan official appears at
last — An Oris ammoiis head — Splendid trophy — Return journey
begun — Nilang —A good game country — An airy bridge — The
great pilgrim route to Gangotri — Jangla bungalow — The story of
a murderous " Sahib " — Bhattari — Journey ends . . .319

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

MARKHOR . . . . •

SHARAFA HELD ME BY THE BELT BEHIND

HUGE MARKHOR CAME TO LOOK AT ME DEFIANTLY

HE SIGNED TO ME TO LOOK OVER

SHARAFA HELD UP MY FEET .

THEY CAME SLOWLY TOWARDS THE ROCK ON WHICH

HUNTED BY A HILL-CROW

FERRY ACROSS THE INDUS AT NEUMA ^

NOT LOOKING, BUT INTENTLY LISTENING

PANGONG LAKE 1 . . . •

PANGONG LAKE, LOOKING WEST

THE INFURIATED BULL STOOD ABOVE THE ROCK

BOUNDING THROUGH THE GLADE

HE STOOD UP ON HIS HIND LEGS

CROUCHED ON THE EOCK ABOVE, KNIFE IN HAND

I DISCOVERED THEY WERE ALL RAMS

WE LAY

Frontispiece
to face p. 40
GO
82
96
112
124
168
182
196
202
224
238
244
264
308

1 From original slvetcli by JIajor Henry Jones.

PART I

ASTOR, KASHMIR

» * - »

PART I

AS TOR, KASHMIR

IXTEODUCTOEY

I PURPOSE in the following pages to attempt some
description of sport I have enjoyed in and beyond the
" Abode of Snow." Seven times have I journeyed for
periods ranging from three to six months into and beyond
the vast ranges of mountains, from the Indus, which
bounds Kashmir on the west, to the Nipal frontiers of
Kamaon on the east. The difficulties and troubles which
fell to my lot, and they were not a few, bear no com-
parison with the pleasures of travelling through the grandest
scenery, and following the noblest game, in the world.
The mere sight of the journals I faithfully kept during
my wanderings brings back to memory many of the most
delightful days of my life.

My first expedition was undertaken twenty years ago,
when I travelled along the present well-known route from
Rawalpindi to Baramiila. In those days one marched
along a rough mountain road, and progress was slow ; and
as tents and a full travelling equipment had to be taken
from the very beginning of the journey in the plains,

' f '^ « "^ r c r .

INTRODUCTORY

it can be imagined what time was lost before the
impatient sportsman got within striking distance of his
game. How changed now are the means of locomotion
between these two points ! The railway brings the
tourist to Eawalpindi, within three days, from any point
in India ; a hill cart receives him at the station and
whirls him away towards the blue hills without more
delay than the pause to drink a cup of tea — for even the
brewing of which he has not to wait. He reaches Murree
in time for breakfast, and is off again on the long stretch
of winding road which has been constructed for cart-
traffic within recent years. Well-constructed staging-
bungalows occur at every twelve or fifteen miles, and he
can rest his weary body on a comfortable bed when
darkness overtakes him. Only the old traveller, who has-
passed along the same road in years gone by, wearily
tramping stage after stage for a fortnight, or wearing out
skin and temper on a hired pony, can appreciate the
change. At Baramiila the well-known boatman of the
Jehlam, with his picturesque belongings, — wives, children,
poultry-yard, and all that is his, — will be ready to receive
the sportsman who has taken the precaution of telegraphing.
Shikari, sporting-kit, and supplies, even the cash necessary
for daily travelling expenses, will be on board the boat.
The traveller has merely to step in, lie down, and be poled
and pulled up the river. The people he employs have for
more than a generation made it a study how to " do " (in
more senses than one) the travelling Englishman. The
latter has only to scatter his coin about w^ith a generous
hand, to find the road made smooth from the moment he
steps on board to the moment he steps off six months
afterwards, poorer in pocket than when he arrived, no
doubt, but enriched with a store of health and pleasant
memories whose value cannot be appraised in rupees.

INTRODUCTORY 3

The journey from Baramiila to Srinagar, the capital of
Kashmir, is such a commonplace performance now, that
detailed description may be omitted. Let us leave the
beaten track as quickly as possible. It is not necessary
to visit the capital if the traveller is pressed for time or
intends touring in the western and north-western parts of
the Kashmir territory. A visit to Srinagar means the loss
of several days and the waste of money in the purchase
of curios.

My first expedition was to the Wardwan valley and its
famous ibex grounds ; — that, as I have said, was twenty
years ago ; my last was undertaken within the last two
years. But as it is not necessary to follow any chrono-
logical order, nor perhaps expedient that I should relate
the events of all my various journeys, I will begin with the
one which, to me at any rate, was the most interesting.

CHAPTEK I

JOUENEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

Sopar to Bandpura — Present condition of the village — A globe-trotter and
his bag — The start — Lagging coolies — A Panjabi fakir on the tramii —
My first brown bear — A tramp in the dark — Bagtor village — The Krisli-
ganga valley — A good find for stags — Elastic bridge — Sharafa's predica-
ment— The Gagai ndla — Crossing the pass — A British colonel — A snow-
storm— Marmai and its inhabitants — Procuring transport — Description
of the place— Village of Diril — Village of Chhagam — Nanga Parbat —
Colony of Kashmiri horse-thieves — Gurikot — Wazir Rozi Khan's family
— Evening tea — A British sportsman on his return — Astor — Wazir Rozi
Khan — His wife subsidised by the Maharajah.

From Sopar, on the Wular, my boats took me across the
lake to the village of Bandpura, at the northern extremity
of this beautiful sheet of water. It was the most con-
venient point from which to make a start for the district
of Astor, my future shooting ground. In after years, when
the Gilgit Agency was established, this small village became
the base for all military operations in that direction, and
it was transformed into a centre of activity which changed
the face of the country for miles round. Sikhs, Giirkhas,
Panjabis, congregate here now in numbers ; camels, mules,
and military impedimenta are found in every direction ;
and what was once one of the best shooting countries
in Kashmir is closed to the sportman.

There was the usual delay before I could make a start
on the long and somewhat tedious journey to my shooting

LAGGING COOLIES 5

ground, nine marches distant. There was no made road
then, only a rough mountain path, and travel was so slow-
that complete arrangements for the long march had to be
made at Astor. I improved the occasion by visiting u
" globe-trotter " encamped in an apple orchard close by.
The gentleman and his " pal," who was out shooting at
the time, were on their journey round the world, and had
taken -Kashmir in the usual course. They had been here
for a month, and had bagged five stags and a black bear.
People say, however, that they found two of the stags buried
in last winter's snow. They dug out the carcases and appro-
priated the heads ! This is one way of making a good bag.
A start was made at last, and Tragbal stage reached at
half-past three, after a steady ascent of six hours. Though
it was the end of April, snow still lay in great patches,
and a level spot for the little tent was difficult to find.
The ascent from this point was less steep than the one
below, but the expanses of snow increased, and nothing
could be seen but white sheets on all sides. The path wound
along the hillsides, and I enjoyed my walk in the bracing
atmosphere, though the wind was cold and cutting, and
tramping in the snow almost froze my feet. The descent
on the other side of the pass was steeper and shorter,
but we had to travel for several miles along a narrow
valley entirely covered with snow : the coolies lagged, and
I was hungry; strong measures were necessary, and I birched
the men on the legs with thin and stinging twigs from the
trees. The effect was stimulating, and also lasting. 7 Below
the pass I met a Panjabi fakir going to Kashmir. He
said he was once a Hindu ; he had left home twelve years
ago, and had wandered ever since. He said he had studied
all religions, and talked with some knowledge of the Bible
and the Koran. His emaciated body was covered with a
tattered coat and a pair of torn pajamas ; in his hand he

6 JOURNEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

held a ragged cap which he never put on his head — yet
he sat in the snow in seeming comfort, and talked to me
quite at his ease. He was, he said, a charasi, — a smoker
of the hemp drug, — and the only thing he regretted was the
want of this stimulant during his lengthened wanderings.
Though the Indian of the plains is a stay-at-home, it is
surprising, when he does wander, how he manages to reach
the most out-of-the-way places on earth, without means,
wretchedly clad, in the most trying climates, and without
any commissariat whatever.

Some distance farther down, Sharafa, my head shikari,
discovered a brown or snow bear feeding on the opposite
hillside ; but, alas ! the second shikari, who carried the
rifle, had gone on ahead. The birching I had given the
coolies, two hours previously, had put so much life into
them that they had gone straight ahead without a halt,
and the rifle-carrier was with them. Sharafa ran on for
the rifle, while I sat down, glass in hand, and watched the
animal for half an hour. On his return we made a success-
ful stalk, and got within forty yards. I hit the bear on
the point of the left shoulder, but rather low ; the bullet
smashed her fore-leg, split up, and then made a hole in her
side. She fell back off the rock she had just mounted,
stood for a moment very sick, then collapsed, and rolled
down the hillside on to the snow at the bottom of the valley
— dead. This was my first shot with a new '450 Henry
Express which I had received just before starting on this
expedition. Five drams of powder were behind the bullet,
which was the usual hollow Eley Express, weighing 270
grains. The whole business did not take fifteen minutes,
from the moment the rifle was brought. It was getting
late, and camp was some distance off, so we had to do every-
thing at best pace. The bear was a small one and very
thin, but the fur was in splendid condition.

A TRAMP IN THE DARK 7

It was fast growing dark, and, what was worse, the coolies
had not halted at Kanzalwan, but had gone on three miles
farther to the village of Bagtor — the birching seemed to
have inspired them with perpetual motion. We hurried
on for Bagtor, but the darkness soon obliged us to go
slowly, for the path in one place went over a plain so wet
and boggy that I floundered over it in growing ill-humour.
A dense forest of pines on the left increased the gloom,
and little rivulets of snow-water had to be jumped every
ten minutes : the rushing Krishganga was on the right, a
good distance below, and the path often led along the
edge of the steep slope that overhung the river. A slip,
and I should have rolled down to the river — perhaps into
it. A twinkling light in the distance was a welcome sight,
but it turned out to be only a pine-torch in the hands of a
little boy thoughtfully sent out by the good old lambardar
(head-man of the village) to guide me.

We reached Basjtor at 9 p.m. The tent was behind with
some lagging coolies, so I spread my bedding on a thick
layer of hay, and something to eat and a glass of whisky
soon put me in good spirits. I had been on the march from
five in the morning, and it was now nine o'clock, so I was
not particular as to how I got my rest.

Early next morning I was on the tramp again along the
left bank of the Krishganga, a lovely stream amid splendid
scenery. The whole valley looked as if it contained game,
from the rocky ridges above the right bank to the undulat-
ing slopes that fell gently to the path I travelled. Sharafa
informed me that the forests about Bagtor were certain
finds for stags during September and October. They begin
to " call " as they start from their summer quarters in the
valleys on the right bank of the river about the 15th
September, and take about three weeks to reach the wooded
slopes on the Kashmir side. The best plan is to reach

8 JOURNEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

their summer haunts about the middle of that montli, and
to stay all through the calling period. It is waste of time
to wait for them in certain localities which they frequent
during these migrations. They will be found there for a
few days, then suddenly disappear, and the precious days
of the calling season will be lost hunting after them in an
abandoned forest. The difficulty, however, is to follow
them from valley to valley without trespassing on ground
already occupied by another sportsman. The universal
custom in Kashmir is for the stag-hunter to secure a likely
valley and stick to it, taking his chance of getting a few
shots during the short calling time. The method I suggest
would be considered downright poaching, and would en-
gender much bad blood, and create endless disputes ;
but it is certainly the likeliest way of securing good
heads.

Marching up the Gagai stream next day, I came to the
tent of a gentleman, who, though camped here for a
month, had shot only a single bear. Went on and came
to a bridge — to wit, a fine sapling of slender girth, and oh,
so elastic ! The coolies passed over, load and all, some
splendidly and some badly. Sharafa was Al at this busi-
ness : he crossed it over and over again, carrying the loads
of those who had not nerve enough for the undertaking.
My turn came last : Sharafa came to help (very unneces-
sarily), and took my hand. When half-way over, the
sapling began to spring up and down: tight-rope
dancing was nothing to it. Sharafa fell into the stream
and was carried away a couple of yards, but soon recovered
his legs, while I clung on with hands and legs under
the sapling, like a monkey. Sharafa came up again, and
with his aid I got across at the expense of some skin and
an essential part of my attire. Sharafa was in a sad
plight, as the water was icy cold. It was early morning,

THE GAGAI NALA 9

and there was no sun, so we had to make a fire for him,
and toast him at it. After a time we turned up a small
stream called the Chhota (small) Gagai, and crossed another
pole bridge, much narrower than the first, but with very
little spring in it.

The valley now contracted gradually. There were
rocks and rocky ridges on either side, very ibex-looking,
but it was too late in the season to expect them so near the
path now. We reached Burzil at 3 r.M., and had to camp
on the snow. This is the much-used Gagai Pass. The dak-
coolies of five sahibs were with me going up to Astor and
beyond. The wind was piercingly cold in the evening, and
some snow fell. Our march next day was a trying one,
and the ascent to the crest of the pass occupied five hours.
The most heart-breaking part of it was the alternation of
hope and disappointment during the whole time. After
painfully ascending a long distance, a sharply defined crest
appeared above me. I made certain that the end of the
journey was within sight ; but I gained the sky-line only
to find a farther stretch of snow and painful ascent lying
before me, with another well-defined crest cutting the blue
sky at a farther elevation. The pass, of course, this time,
I thought ; but no, that was only crest number two ! Four
times was I disappointed : the fifth slope was the last, and
the fifth sky-line was the actual col beyond which the de-
scent into the next valley began. The descent for some
distance is very sharp. I tobogganed down this slope, and
nearly obliterated the colonel of a British regiment in my
descent. He was lying in the snow mullied up, and I
mistook him for one of the coolies. It was not till he sent
for me that I discovered his identity. I lay down along-
side of him and had a talk. After a rest he continued his
way up, and I went down. The descent was gradual, but
the snow was very deep everywhere.

lo JOURNEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

When we reached the Eiat encamping ground at five,
the snow increased and the wind was more cutting than ever;
but we pitched camp somehow on the snow in a young
birch forest — a very uncomfortable shelter indeed. It must
have snowed for several hours during the night ; its weight
so bore down my little tent that the coolies had to come
out twice to shake it off. The morning light showed a
splendid winter scene : the leafless branches of the birch
trees wore a snowy dressing, each branch standing out
distinctly from its fellows ; an hour's sun, and this fairy
scene vanished. I awoke early and called for my servant ;
I had to shout loudly and often, receiving a muffled reply
each time, as if the man were smothered under a dozen
blankets or two feet of snow. I began to get alarmed,
but the rascal had not been snowed up ; he was too com-
fortable in his blankets to rise in a hurry.

Packing was a terrible business. The tent was frozen
stiff as a board ; but we had to get out of this snow-bound
land, and proceed farther down into more genial regions.
At least twelve inches of snow must have fallen during
the night ; and travelling was difficult and dreadfully slow.
The slope of the valley still trended gently downwards,
and we at last reached Loyon-harrar, a pretty plain. A
large stream runs through it, which I at first mistook for
the Astor river, but it is only a tributary. The main
stream is farther north, but the volume of the river I had
reached was much greater than that of the former. The
main road from Gurais to Astor, which makes a great bend
a good distance to the right of the short cut I had taken,
crosses the stream here by the bridge, so that I was again
on the principal line of communication between the two
districts. Marmai is the highest inhabited spot in the valley,
and the porters I had brought with me from the last village
on the other side of the Gagai Pass had to be relieved here.

MARMAI AND ITS INHABITANTS ii

When I arrived it was in possession of women and children
only — not a man was visible, and such an assortment of old
hags it has never been my misfortune to see together. One
old lady attracted the attention of my party at once ; she
grew a beard of which no man need have been ashamed —
neither was she ; the beard was dominated by a hooked
nose, and the furrows in her face held, I should say, a
century of dirt. The old woman was so much out of the
common that the curiosity of even my fagged coolies was
excited, and everyone went round the corner to have a
good stare at her — each returning with an amazed look
which dissolved in a broad grin and loud guffaw as his dull
comprehension grasped the sublimity of the dame's ugliness.
Three or four young women were comely, and, but for the
hereditary dirt, would have been pleasant to look at.
They wore a curious woollen hood, a broad metal button
at the point, and a loose woollen sack down to their heels.
This is their full costume. The dress is worn till it rots
away from the wearer's person — a process of denudation
that was in progress in the garments of the fair ones
before me.

No man being visible, and time being a consideration,
active measures were resorted to. A burly Kashmiri
dakwala (letter-carrier), belonging to a gentleman shoot-
ing in Astur, who was accompanying my party, was most
useful, as former experience had familiarised him with the
proper modus operandi in such circumstances. He at first
gently appealed to the women to say where the men were :
they answered energetically, and in full chorus, that all
the adults were away ; the Makadam (head-man) had gone
to one village, the Kotwal (village watchman) to another.
The dakwala looked incredulous, but, to avoid hurting the
feelings of the ladies, did not express himself — he simply
dived into the huts and made search. He was unsuccess-

12 JOURNEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

fill, so in more determined language addressed himself to
the Bai Makadam (Mrs. Makadam), the best-looking of
the lot. This harangue took time to deliver, but was
evidently convincing, for the lady went to the entrance
of the huts and shouted, " Kirim Khan, come out," — and
in a second out came Kirim Khan, a stalwart youth with
rather a sheepish look, and clothed in woollen rags.
Amazement and satisfaction minoied in the smile that
illumined the features of the postman — he had just that
moment searched the three huts and found no one. Hope
now rose in the breasts of the tired porters, but no more
men emerged from the cavernous depths below us.

Kirim Khan was a big-boned young fellow, with reddish
hair and honest brown eyes — in appearance a thorough-
bred Dard. He enjoyed the situation as much as any of
us, and took up his task of a beast of burden with great
good-humour ; he had been an actor in this sort of play
many times before, I suspect. As no more men could be
drawn from the huts, Mrs. Makadam was persuaded to
despatch Kirim to bring her husband from the next village,
while we rested on the housetops, about four feet above
the level of the ground. The coolies were talking to the
women, when suddenly a whisper went round that men
were still concealed below. A general rush was made into
the huts, and another man brought out. He resigned
himself to his fate, and fell to mending his leather
stockings at once. Shortly afterwards there was more
whispering among the women, another rush down, and
another man was revealed to the light of day, blinking
like an owl. It was now rumoured that the Makadam
himself was concealed below. This was too much for me.
I lighted the lantern, and myself went down to explore
the nether regions ; but there were no more discoveries —
the human mine was exhausted.

DESCRIPTION OF THE PLACE 13

These poor people live in a most extraordinary fashion,
as nearly like brutes as possible. The village consists of
three houses (families, I suppose), and the following is
the ground plan : one roof covers the whole village — the
entrance only is open to the sky. The walls are about
four feet high ; the eaves sloping down almost to the level
of the Q,Tound.

0

t5

0

0

The three points marked O are holes in the roof which
let out the smoke. The dotted lines mark a stick par-
tition running the length of the room, dividing it into
two : in the back portion the family live and keep their
chattels ; the front shelters the cattle, cows, sheep, goats,
and ponies. The entrance is a shining cesspool, into
which the combined dwelling and stable drains. The
cattle-room is ankle-deep in filth, through which one
must wade to get to the human dwelling-places. It is
hardly possible to imagine the state in which these people
exist during the eight months of winter, when they must
lie buried several yards below the surface of the snow.

My search for the Makadam was very short indeed, and
he was not within after all. The Kotwal (village watchman)
appeared after a time from a village across the river, and
the dakwala pounced on him at once, tied his arms
behind his back, and with his alpenstock belaboured him

14 JOURNEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

on his posteriors till he was tired. After this preliminary-
he spoke to him. The matter-of-fact way in which the
Kotwal took this punishment was extraordinary ; he was
evidently used to it ! With his arms tied, he was sent
down to the river bank opposite the next village to shout
for coolies. Shortly after appeared the Makadam himself,
with two men. Still there were not sufficient porters for
the loads ; I was therefore obliged to make the Makadam
and Kotwal carry a load each, as the sun was setting, and
I was determined to make at least five miles more before
halting for the night. These two men had not gone a
mile when two others came running up from the next
village and relieved them of their burdens ! This was
how we travelled in this part of the world ten years ago.
The people of Marmai are said to be Shias in religion —
Eafizis or heretics ; and the orthodox Kashmiris evidently
treat them in the manner I have described, as a matter
of religious duty. They are said not to be Dards, but
emigrants from Baltistan who have settled in this valley.

We reached Diril village late in the evening. Our
next march was to Chhagdm. Some distance from Diril
the road crosses the river and goes along the left bank.
After crossing the bridge and going some distance down
the left bank, we turned a shoulder and came on
to Gabar Maidan (fire-worshippers' plain ? ), a curious
undulating plain running down towards Chhagam ; the
road passes over it. An open and level valley, the Mir
Malik, comes down to the river from the left. It is
pretty, and a good find, I am told, for bears and urin
(wild sheep). From Chhagam the river takes a sharp
turn to the right, going completely round the spur of the
range on its right bank. The range ends abruptly in this
bend. Just opposite, on the left bank, is the mouth of
the Riipil nala running down from Nanga Parbat, of which

KASHMIRI HORSE-THIEVES 15

there is a grand view from the bridge which spans the
muddy stream at this point. Ibex are said to be found
up this valley, and markhor later in the season. There is
a penal settlement of Kashmiris a little distance up this
valley : it consists of people who gave so much trouble in
the valley stealing ponies, that the Maharajah banished
them to this spot, under the shadow of the naked mountain,
several years ago. Giirikot was reached at seven, a very hot
march from Chhagum. Eozi Khan, Wazi'r of Astor, had his
house and family here, as Astor is not a nice place to live in.
I sent for the Khan at once to arrange my shooting
trip, but he had gone to Astor. In his stead came his
little son with a tray of sweets and a samovar of hot tea,
— quite the Central Asian custom, — which brought home
to me, very pleasantly, the fact that I was now far from
Hindustan and its exclusive customs. Eozi Khan has an
older son who is Thiinadar (police officer) of Ast(5r, so that
the civil government of this district is entirely in the
hands of this family. I reached Astor at nine next day,
meeting on the road a British officer returning from his
shooting : he had bagged six markhor ; very good heads
they seemed to me, but he said he was not satisfied, and
was afraid his colonel (the gentleman I met on the pass)
would not be very well pleased with him. Soon after my
arrival, Eozi Khan paid me a visit, and we had a long talk.
He promised me a good man and a good place for a
certain consideration, which I agreed to, with the stipulation
that I must be satisfied with my sport. The fort is on
the edge of a deep ravine, at the bottom of which flows a
stream. The road from Gurikot descends to the water,
and there is a very stiff pull up again to the fort. A
small tank lies in front of the fort gate, and a few poplars
shade its banks ; on the other two sides are the houses and
huts of the garrison. My tent was pitched on the right bank

i6 JOURNEY TO THE SHOOTING GROUND

of the tank, a narrow place not ten feet wide. The sanitary
arrangements of the cantonment were much neglected ; con-
sequently my camping place was not an agreeable one.

This fort, I may observe, was taken by the Sikhs from the
Dards in the usual treacherous Asiatic style. Puijah
Guliib Singh being unable to make any impression on it,
the Dard Eajah was at last beguiled by solemn promises to
give himself up. As soon as he passed through his fort
gate he was made a prisoner, and the fort entered. The
Eajah was given a jagir (a grant of villages), and was still
living in Astor. I received a second visit from Eozi Khan
in the evening. He is a stout middle-sized man, past
middle age, and of dark complexion, with the manners and
deportment of a native gentleman. He is well-educated
and intelligent, and has travelled about this frontier a
good deal, and has a very exceptional knowledge of the
peoples and countries beyond the Maharajah's territories.
For any political work in that direction he would be most
useful, and, I think, could be trusted. It would be
interesting to know what has been the career of this
capable man since the changes which have taken place in
Kashmir within the last few years. His salary as AYazir,
or Deputy Commissioner, of this district when I met him
was sixty rupees a month, and four villages in jagir.
He has two wives : one of them, the favourite, bore the
reputation of a very wise and able woman, who helped the
Wazir a great deal with her counsels in the affairs of the
country. Her influence was recognised by the Maharajah,
who paid her a salary of forty rupees a month. This novel
system of administration should find favour with the
Government of India in its present straits. It would be a
premium on marriage, ensure dual control, and be a
soothing concession to the raging lionesses in the old
country who are fighting for women's rights.

CHAPTER II

THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

Boundaries of the district— The Astor river — The valley — General aspect of
the country— The people of Astor— The Dards — Their repugnance to
the cow — Government of the Dard nation — Forts of Astor and Biinji —
Civil administration — The game animals of Astor — The markhor — The
ibex — The urin — The brown bear — Localities frequented by game.

The district of Astor comprises the main and side valleys
of the river of that name which takes its rise on the
water-parting line dividing it from Giires in the Krish-
ganga valley. The course of the river is from south-
east to north-west, and its length is about ninety miles.
From the Daskirim Pass, above its western source, to its
junction with the Indus below Piamghat, it has a fall of
9274 feet, or an average of more than one hundred feet
per mile. The descent of the waters for the first
two-thirds of the river is not so abrupt as the fall in the
last portion of its course, from Astor to the Indus, The
passing traveller will be often reminded of this difference
on his downward journey. The frantic dash of the
waters within their pent-up course, their deafening roar
during the whole distance to Eamghat, suggest the blind
career of a herd of mighty beasts rushing to their
destruction.

The general aspect of the country is dreary in the

t8 the frontier DISTRICT OF ASTOR

extreme to the traveller from Kashmir. After crossing
the path from the Giires direction, a wilderness of snow
has to be traversed for several miles, even in the month
of April : no vegetation of any kind is visible. Willows
and stunted birch trees are the first to welcome you after
your weary trudge through snowland, and lower down a
patch of pines here and there struggles for existence.
As you reach a lower level, the green turf gives a pleasant
spring to your steps ; and, after passing the first village,
the greenery of wide-spreading walnut is a treat to your sun-
scorched eyes. From the village of Chhagam fruit trees
are frequent, and large patches of cultivation surround
each village. After leaving Astor the scene changes again.
The steep sides of the mountains are clothed with pines,
and the prospect on every side is much confined ; and the
traveller has only one desire — to proceed as rapidly as
possible to the happy hunting grounds now within view.

The people of Astor are called Dards. According to
Drew, they are separated into five divisions : Eonu, Shin,
Yashkan, Kremin, Diim. The Dum, the lowest of all, is
no doubt the same as the Dom or Mirasi (musician) of
India. Drew is of opinion that in all these cases we have
remnants of the early pre- Aryan race that inhabited India.
" This is a new and unexpected fact, the existence of this
race among the high mountains and in the snowy country."
The Kremins are the potters, millers, etc., of the country,
and correspond in function with the Kahars, Jhiwars, etc.,
of India. The similarity between " Kremin " and the
Panjab word " Kamin," which is used to designate the
same class of people, is certainly curious. The Yashkan are
the most numerous, and are owners of the soil. They and
the Shin may be considered the bulk of the Dard nation,
who invaded the country and took it from the earlier
inhabitants. The Eonus are found in Gilgit only, and are

THE DARDS 19

accoiTnted the aristocracy of this people. They are not
uumerous. The Dard race are spread over a great extent
of country, including Astor, but are not found beyond its
limits towards the south, except a few scattered families in
Giir^s. " In physique they are broad-shouldered, moder-
ately stout -built, well-proportioned men; active and
enduring, and good mountaineers. In faces hardly
handsome, but with a good cast of countenance, hair
mostly black, sometimes brown, complexion moderately
fair, eyes brown or hazel, voice and manner somewhat
harsh."

In disposition they are bold and independent, by no
means soft-hearted, but not disobliging. They are de-
cidedly clever, clear-headed, and quick, and exhibit in no
small degree a pride of race which is refreshing after
intercourse with the cringeing, soft-mannered, and ever-
deceitful Kashmiri.

" Their dress is a woollen pajama (trousers), choga
{long coat), waistband, and cap. The latter is a bag half
a yard long, rolled up outwardly until it fits the head.
The roll protects from sun and cold nearly as well as a
turban. This head-dress is characteristic of the nation ;
it is never discarded. They wear strips of leather round
their feet and legs, as far as the knee, secured by thongs.
The skins of wild animals are generally used for this
purpose."

There is one custom among the Shin caste of Dards that
■deserves particular notice.

" They hold the cow in abhorrence ; they look upon her
in much the same way that an ordinary Mahomedan
regards a pig. They will not drink cow's milk, nor do they
eat or make butter from it, nor will they even burn cow-
dung, the fuel that is so commonly used in the East.
Some cattle they are obliged to keep, for ploughing, but

20 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

they have as little as possible to do with them. When
the cow calves, they will put the calf to the udder by
pushing it with a forked stick, and will not touch it with
their hands."

The Dard nation is also peculiar in its government, — that
is, of course, in those places only where they have not
come under the yoke of the foreigner. The Astor Dards
under Dogra rule are governed according to Dogra ideas,
but across the border, in some districts, the government
is a despotism, " untempered, absolute." These latter are
generally found on the right bank of the Indus. The
republic is governed by a general assembly called Sigas.
The executive consists of a few men, five or six, chosen by
the people in their assembly : these are called Joshteros ;.
they can formulate a policy, but have no power to carry
it out without the sanction of the Sigas. They can,
however, settle minor disputes. The usual advantages of
monarchies and republics, on a large scale elsewhere, also
exhibit themselves in these small governments among the
Dards. The village of Thaliche, consisting of seven
houses only, which can be seen across the Indus from the
road to Bunji, enjoys the distinction of being the smallest
republic in the world.

Since the establishment of the Gilgit Agency and the
conquest of the districts of Hiinza and Nagar, great
changes have been effected in this portion of Kashmir
territory. When I passed through the country, the forts
at Astor and Bunji were the only places of any importance
in the district. Biinji was beyond its limits at that time,
but, being situated ou the left bank of the Indus, com-
munication with Astor was much more frequent than
between it and Gilgit, to which latter district Biinji was
subordinate. The Astor garrison consisted of six hundred
men, and a " general " commanded the troops. A few guns

THE GAME OF ASTOR 21

were mounted on the fort walls. There were about two
hundred men in the Bi'inji fort, under a commandant,
subordinate to the general commanding the Gilgit district.
Near each fort were collections of huts wliich formed the
cantonments. All the officers and men lived in them ;
only a small number at a time garrisoned the forts.
The civil administration was then distinguished for its
simplicity ; the governor was called the Wazir ; in him
was centred all civil authority, and under him was the
Thanadar, the chief officer of police. These two officials
managed the affairs of their charge through the medium of
jagirdars and lambardars, the great and small landholders
of the country. The military and civil administration was
entirely alien, though Kozi Khan, the Wazi'r at that time
(a very capable man), had strong sympathies with the
population, as his family had been settled in Giires and
Astor for the last two generations.

Let us now turn to the game of Astor and the places
where they are found. The list is not a long one, but it
comprises the two animals for which this corner of the
Kashmir territories has always been famous — the murkhor
{Capra megaceros) and the ibex {Ccipra sihirica). Besides
these there are the iirin {Ovis vignci) or wild sheep, the
brown or snow bear (Ursus isahellina), and the musk
deer {Moschus mosehiferus); — a short list, no doubt, but
every individual worthy the rifle of the best sportsman
in existence.

The murkhor is called Biim in the Dard language : luin
mazdro is the male ; hum ai (pronounced " eye ") is the
female. Sterndale (page 441) after Kinloch divides them
into four varieties : we are concerned at present with the
fourth, or Baltistan and Astor markhor, distinguished
from the rest by " large flat horns branching out very
widely and then going up nearly straight, with only a half

2 2 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

turn." It is impossible to give a description of this
animal that will strike the experienced man as accurate.
Sterndale says : " The general colour is a dirty light blue-
grey with a darker beard, in summer with a reddish tinge."
Ward, though he gives no detailed description, says
(page 14): "In their winter coat of grey they are
difficult to discover." Jerdon describes the animal's
colour {The Mammals of India, page 29) as "in summer
light greyish-brown, in winter dirty yellowish-white with
bluish-brown tinge." My experience of the Astor animal,
recorded on the spot, inclines me to think that the male,
in the month of April at any rate, wears a dirty-white
coat on his back, which hangs some distance down his
sides, making him a very conspicuous object indeed among
rocks, the " light blue-grey or greyish-brown " hardly
visible on the body. These were the old males ; the
young bucks, herding with the females, were decidedly of
a muddy-red, that made them, when they were motionless,
undistinguishable from their surroundings at even a short
distance. Two weeks later, in another locality, across the
Indus (Damot valley), the old bucks had only a broad
streak of dirty-white along their backs, and the light blue-
grey was very conspicuous. In the figure at page 442 of
Sterndale's Mammalia of India and Ceylon, the whitish
streak along the back of No. 1 variety illustrates exactly
what I mean. It is evident that the colour changes
according to season, locality, and age. The dirty-white
coat doubtless belongs to winter, and disappears more or
less quickly according to the early or late arrival of spring.
Perhaps the young bucks have not this distinguishing
colour to the same extent as their elders. The size of the
mtirkhor varies according to locality. Ward, in his
Sportsman's Guide (page 14),says: " This (the Astor markhor)
is larger than its representative in Kashmir proper.

THE MARKHOR 23

Many stand as much as eleven hands high, whereas the
largest I have seen in other localities barely reached ten
and a half hands." Jerdon and Sterndale agree in fixing
the height at eleven and a half hands. Ward thus con-
tinues : " The curves of the horns are bold and flat, the
divergency at the tips great, and the massiveness, which is
shown to such advantage in the single twist, leads this
variety to be considered by most people the handsomest
of the four." Single horns of sixty-one and sixty-three
inches have been found in Astor, but complete trophies
range from fifty-two inches and less ; the length, girth,
and divergency of different sets of horns vary considerably.
It may be laid down as a general rule that the longest are
always the most slender, while the shortest are the most
massive, and have the greatest divergency. This will be
found to be the case with most horned animals. I have
noticed it constantly among antelope, gazelles, and ibex.
It would seem that nature had fixed a certain quantiUj of
bony and horny matter for the head ornaments of each
male, which, according to individual circumstances, is de-
veloped into long and slender, or short and massive, horns.
Length and massiveness will rarely be found together.
The best specimen measured by Ward gave the following
dimensions (page 15): "Length along curve, 52 inches;
girth at base, 12^ ; divergency at tips, 43 inches. Trophies
of this kind," he continues, " are rare, . . . rare indeed is
a head with horns much over 50 inches in length." He
speaks truly. The best trophies fall to the goatherd's
rickety matchlock, or the surer onslaught of the mountain
leopard, which are the ever-present enemies of the
markhor and ibex. The keen-eyed goatherd, not many
degrees less wild than his quarry, always takes his match-
lock when his flocks mount to the grassy uplands for their
summer pasturage. In a few days he has marked down

2 4 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

all the game within reach. He bides his time, and when
a certain opportunity occurs, he bags the biggest markhor
or ibex on the hill. But he has not been mentally
measuring the splendid horns, or stroking the flowing
beard of the patriarch of the flock ; his one idea is meat,
accordingly he singles out the largest animal. He may
become possessed of the most splendid trophy, but his first
act is to smash the horns with his hatchet, split open the
skull, and throw the brains on the blazing logs of his
camp fire ; that is his honne louche for dinner. The
remains of the head and horns find their resting-place at
the bottom of the glen — to be picked up years after, perhaps,
by the casual Saxon, who sighs over the lost splendour of
" the largest horns he ever saw."

The markhor is an ungainly animal : his long back and
disproportionately short legs rather detract from his
appearance as a game-looking beast ; his shaggy coat and
long hair, which conceal the upper portions of his limbs,
make his ungainliness more conspicuous. Even in his gait
he is not graceful, but none can deny his wonderful activity
among the rocks and precipices of his favourite haunts.
A venerable buck, standing solitary on a rock, con-
templating the world below him, will make the blood of
the most hlasd tingle in his veins ; or a herd of long-bearded
seniors, gravely crossing a patch of snow, perhaps just out
of range, is a sight that will recur to mind for many a
year after. And the amount of fatigue and labour it will
cost you to bring a forty-incher to bay will certainly
inspire you with a wholesome respect for the markhor's
sense of smell and vision, and for his alertness.

Kinloch says (Sterndale, page 443): "The markhor
inhabits the most difficult and inaccessible ground,
where nearly perpendicular faces of rock alternate with
steep grassy slopes and patches of forest. It is very shy

THE MARKHOR 25

and secluded in its habits, remaining concealed in the
densest thickets during the daytime, and only coming out
to feed in the mornings and evenings; . . . early in
the season the males and females may be found together in
the open grassy patches and clear slopes among the forest,
but during the summer the females generally betake them-
selves to the highest rocky ridge above the forests, while
the males conceal themselves still more constantly in the
jungles, and very rarely showing themselves."

My experience is that the markhor is not a cold or snow-
loving animal like the ibex, though nature has been gener-
ous in supplying him with winter clothing. He passes his
life at a much lower level, at all seasons of the year, than
the other animal, and the heat of the early summer months
seems to cause him no inconvenience, though he still wears
his winter suit. As summer advances, he is driven higher
by the village flocks that graze gradually up as the snow-
line retreats ; and also by the swarms of flies, gnats, midges
and what not, that make life a burden both to man and
beast at a lower level. The fresh and tender grass, too,
can be found only near the snow-line, and these influences
combine to keep him constantly moving upwards, till he
reaches the open slopes near the top of the range, where he
may then be seen in close proximity to the ibex. The
rutting season overtakes him here by the end of September
or beoinnins of October; and he has his short season of
madness at this high elevation, where cover is scarce and
precipices infrequent. Native shikaris have informed me
that the rutting season is the time for markhor shooting,
and they themselves hunt him most frequently at this
particular period. His shy and retiring habit, I am inclined
to think, is due in some measure to those ever-present pests,
the flies. The cool shades of the forest and thicket preserve
him from their attacks during the heat of the day when

26 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

these insects are liveliest. In the morning and evening,
when the cold impairs their activity, the markhor is not loth
to take advantage of the opportunity. The old bucks are
decidedly lazy, and if a flock be watched, a decided stiffness
and slowness of movement will soon discover the seniors.
The younger bucks are full of life and play, quick in their
movements, and have a set-to after every dozen mouthfuls
of grass ; the elders are always feeding or resting. The
native shikaris say the old bucks keep these youngsters
with them for the sake of their keener sense of sight and
smell ; they are quicker to detect danger, and so warn
their seniors.

The ibex {Gapra sihirica) is called Kll in Astor {Kd in
Kashmir), hil mdzdro and kil ai for male and female. He
is much more plentiful and more easily found, stalked, and
shot than the markhor. Sterndale's description of him is
as follows : —

" General colour light brownish, with a dark stripe down
the back in summer, dirty yellowish-white in winter ; the
beard, which is from six to eight inches long, is black ;
the horns, which are like the European ibex, are long and
scimitar-shaped, curving over the neck, flattened at the
sides, and strongly ridged in front; from forty to fifty
inches in length. Under the hair, which is about two
inches long, is a soft down, which is highly prized for the
manufacturer of the fine soft cloth called Mse. Size,
height at shoulder, about 44 inches (11 hands)."

The ibex is not the ungainly animal I have styled
the markhor. He is lord of the mountain-tops, and looks
every inch the monarch of all he surveys. But I must
protest against the caricature of this animal at page 445
in Sterndale's book. The head shows none of the massive-
ness of the living animal ; and where, oh, where is the
beard " from six to eight inches long " ? As for the legs

THE IBEX 27

of the figure in this book, ihev are ti'uly a libel on the
sturdv limbs of this the siamest of mountain game.
Those spindle shanks would snap like pipe stems if ther
were used as I have seen the ibex use his legs, jumping
from rock to rock iu his mad cai-eer. And I must take
leave also to protest against that silly-looking animal at
page 443 labelled '' Cajfra me^acerc^r Xo. 1 VLU-iety,
looking ar Xo. '2 upou the opposite page, wears an air of
contempt that has been shared, I am sure, by every
reader of the book who has seen the animal as nature
made him. I: is fair to say, though, that Xo. 2 was
drawn from a stiified specimen in some museum.

The ibex is the pleasantest animal to hunt within the
limits of Kashmir. Pursuit of the ibex has afforded me
more real pleasui-e than that of all the rest put together.
Miirkhor takes it out of you in a very short time ; after
you have secured a reasonable trophy, you are apt to cry,
'• Hold, enough : " Bu: the ibex is a gentleman in his
manners and customs as compared with his spiral-homed
cousin lower down mountain ; he gives you all the chances
that a fair-minded animal should give an honest foe. He
is nevertheless "all there" when treading his ancestral
hills, and. after you have circumvented him, you feel that
he has been a worthy opponent, Kinloch's description
of the habits of the ibex is by far the truest I have seen
(p, 446, Sterudale): "The ibex inhabits the most pre-
cipitous ground in the highest- of the ranges where it is
found, keeping alx>ve the forest (where there is any),
unless driven down by severe weather. In the daytime
it senerallv betJikes itself to the most inaccessible crags,
where it miiy sleep and rest iu undisturbed security, merely
coming down to the grassy feeding grounds in the mornings
and evenings. Occasionally, in very remote and 5; '.'.ed
places, the ibex will stay all day on their feeding greuuds.

28 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

but this is not common. In summer, as the snows melt,
the old males retire to the highest and most unfrequented
mountains, and it is then generally useless to hunt for
them, as they have such a vast range, and can find food
in places perfectly inaccessible to man. The females and
young ones may be met with all the year round, and often
at no very great elevation,"

The most wide-awake animal in creation is certainly the
female ibex, and she seems to exercise her vigilance solely
for the benefit of the ungrateful male, who is by no means
so watchful ; in fact, if he is old and lazy, he keeps no
look-out at all after having comfortably laid himself up for
the day. That duty falls to his mate, and admirably she
performs it. Uncomfortably perched on a jutting rock far
above the rest of the flock, securely sleejDing on some
soft patch of level or gently sloping ground below, she
lies keeping her tireless watch. The patient native or
Kashmiri is used to her sentry duty, and, after taking in
the situation, he too falls asleep like the bearded males he
is trying to circumvent ; but the impatient Saxon fumes
and swears in the intervals of studying the little animal
through his glasses. The case is perfectly hopeless ; there
is no approach nearer than a thousand yards, without
instant detection — for several hours to come at any rate ;
and the language that contaminates the mountain air is
truly awful. How often have I resolved, in these moments
of desperation, to shoot that one female in particular, and
allow the long-horned careless ones, sleeping just beyond
range, to go in peace, purely for the satisfaction of the thing.
That feeling is not peculiar to myself ; I am sure others
similarly placed have felt the same. The female ibex is
the hete noir of the sportsman ; she has spoiled many a
careful stalk, and at other times has forced him to trudge
many and many a weary mile to escape her all-seeing eye ;

THE URIN 29

when, if she had been absent, a walk of a few hundred
yards would have placed him for his shot.

The report of the rifle has its counterpart in so many
sounds of common occurrence in these elevated regions, that
ibex are little alarmed by it. " Falling rock " or " thunder "
is the first idea that occurs to them, and their first thought
is to get out of the way of those familiar dangers. When
a good stalk is made, and the sportsman has his wits about
him, several shots can almost always be obtained, and
instances of three of four animals having been bagged at
one stalk are not rare. The ground, too, generally is so
favourable that the stalker can get within very short
range — always provided that the sharp-sighted female has
been successfully dodged. I have shot bucks at five, ten,
and fifteen yards distance, and a sportsman has informed
me that on one occasion he could have touched the animal
with the muzzle of his rifle !

The urin or oorin {Ovis vignei) is the only representa-
tive of the wild sheep in Astor. I have never shot him,
and I cannot therefore speak of him from personal
acquaintance. Sterndale (p. 435) gives a very short
notice of him : " General colour brownish-grey, beneath
paler, belly white ; a short beard of stifiish brown hair ;
the horns of the male sub-triangular, rather compressed
laterally, and rounded posteriorly, deeply sulcated, curving
outward and backward from the skull, points divergent.
The female is beardless, with small horns. The male horns
run from 25 to 35 inches, but larger have been recorded.

" This sheep was for some time, and is still by some,
confounded with the oorial {Ovis cycloceros), but there
are distinct differences. ... It inhabits the elevated
ranges of Ladakh, and is found in Baltistiin, where it is
called the oorin."

" X5'rin " is, I think, the Astor, not the Baltistun name.

30 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

This animal is not fond of snow, and I should say would
seldom be found at elevations of 12,000 to 14,000 feet as
stated by Sterndale. From all accounts, it is a most difficult
animal to stalk, as it generally frequents level plateaux,
where it cannot be approached within easy rifle range.
Lar»e horns are now scarce in Astor.

The Himalayan Brown Bear. Sterndale's description of
this animal is as follows : " A yellowish-brown colour,
varying somewhat according to sex and time of year."
Jerdon says : " In winter and spring the fur is long
and shaggy, in some inclining to silver-grey, in others
to reddish-brown ; the hair grows thinner and darker in
summer as the season advances, and in autumn the under
fur has mostly disappeared, and a white collar on the
chest is then very apparent. The cubs show this collar
distinctly. The females are said to be lighter in colour
than the males."

The brown bear is always found close to the snow, at
very high elevations. He is most impatient of heat, as he
well may be in view of the tremendous quantity of hair
that clothes him ! Grass, roots, and berries are his food.

I must confess to feelings of regret as I contemplate
the figure of this old acquaintance on page 110 of Stern-
dale's book. He has been persecuted for a generation in
Kashmir by the English sportsman, and has yielded his
splendid furry coat year after year amid groans and
grumblings that cannot be soon forgotten. An old male
mortally wounded and fast dying at your feet, uttering
his protest in his own bearish language, seems to say :
" Why have you murdered a harmless creature like me ?
I keep far away from the human species, and have done
them no harm — even the roots and berries that are my
food cannot ever be of any use to you and yours." And
after he has been deprived of his coat, his stark and naked

THE BROWN BEAR 31

body lying on the bare hillside resembles so much the
human corpse that few can look at it without feelings
of compunction. Moreover, the sport itself is so tame,
that, after obtaining a couple of good skins, the
majority of sportsmen leave him alone and turn their
attention to worthier game. Nevertheless, a certain class
persecute poor Bruin perpetually ; and, besides, every tourist,
whether sportsman or not, must be able to say that he has
" shot a bear." The 'native shikari, too, can always secure
a good price for his skin, and he is constantly on the look-
out for the poor animal.

Although my sympathies are entirely with the bear, I
cannot deny his occasional mischief. In a sheepfold he is
apt to be very destructive, and if he makes regular visits
to a field, a decent crop need not be expected ; but these
are rare occurrences. Bruin is by nature timid, and by
habit a dweller remote from human habitations ; he cannot
tolerate man or his belongings. When the shepherd with
his flock enters a valley, the brown bear promptly makes
tracks for the opposite crest in search of solitude.

The localities in the Astor district where markhor and
ibex abound are so numerous, so well-known to the local
shikaris, and to several from Kashmir, that the sportsman
will never have any difficulty in finding them ; the earlier
he goes in the season, the better his chances of securing a
good place ; if he arrives somewhat late, he will have to
travel a good distance towards Bunji and beyond, before he
can find a vacant valley. Again, if he goes very late, that
is, towards the end of the season, he will find many good
nalas available, but the game will be hard to find and
most difficult to circumvent.

As regards markhor, the shooting grounds are divided
into two distinct portions in Astor proper by the river of
that name. First is the range of mountains that begins

32 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

from the Xanga Parbat peak and runs clown directly north
to the junction of the river with the Indus, below Eamghat.
This range on the west drains into the Indus, on the east
into the Astor river. The whole length may be about
thirty miles ; the side valleys ten and fifteen miles.
Those running down to the Astor river are not good for
markhor ; but those on the opposite side towards the
Indus are sure to yield trophies, the best that are to
be found in this country. The Biildar, however, is the
most widely known. It runs into the Indus a little below
the point where this river takes a turn at right angles to
the west. It contains a greater extent of shooting ground
than any other valley in Astor, but is most difficult of
access. First, there is no road to the valley ; it must be
entered by a path from the Astor side, after a difficult
climb, or by the Huttii Pir, which is a longer way ; and
secondly, the valley is scarcely within Kashmir boundaries,
and the officials are always reluctant to assist sportsmen to
get there, for fear of complications with the tribes just
across the Indus ; nevertheless, it is sure to be occupied
very early in the season. The large village of Ghor is
just opposite the opening of the Buldar ; the slopes of
both valleys can be minutely examined, even by the naked
eye, from either side, and the inhabitants of that village
are a notoriously turbulent lot. Even if the diplomatic
sportsman can " arrange " matters with the Wazir at Astor,
it is certain that the latter will pester him with messages
to the effect that some disturbance has occurred across the
river, and that the gentleman had better return. I believe
this state of affairs continues to the present day, though
the fort and garrison at Chilas has been established for
some years on the left bank of the Indus a few miles
lower down, and a good road connects it with the main
line between Bunji and Gilgit. The markhor in the

LOCALITIES FREQUENTED BY GAME 33

Buldar are disturbed least of all, as it is no man's land
and is seldom visited ; for this reason, large heads are sure
to be found there at the beo-inninc; of the season.

Second is the mountain range that culminates above the
Parishing stream, and, running first in a north-westerly
and then in a southerly direction, past Bunji, ends in
the loop formed by the Indus opposite the village of
Haramosh. This range drains on the south-west into the
Astor, and on the north-east into the Indus from Eondii
in Baltisttin downwards. The whole length is about fifty
miles. The valleys on either slope are numerous, but
they are not of any length and are generally confined.
Those on the Astor side are the most known, and have been
shot over so much year after year that a good head has
become a rarity. The animals have no refuge on this side,
as they have in the Buldar on the opposite range. They
are constantly harried, not only by sportsmen from
Kashmir, but by every local shikari who has a gun, by
shepherds wandering with their flocks, and by sepoys
from the garrisons at Astor and Bunji and the troops
passing up and down this route. Most of the shooting is
done by the natives during the winter time, and by the
European sportsmen during the summer months. The
former never spare the females, and so the markhor are
slaughtered all the year round in these Astor valleys
without any intermission. It is no matter for surprise,
therefore, that good heads have almost entirely disappeared.
The following valleys were the best localities on the side
of the Astor river : — (1) Garai and Amatabar ; (2) Dichal ;

(3) Shaltar ; (4) Dachnar, Dachkat, or Missigan ; (5)
Bdnji valley : and on the Indus side, or north-eastern
slope of the range — (1) Jachi ; (2) Daroth ; (3) Baltari ;

(4) Ballachi.

I have not visited these grounds during recent years.
3

34 THE FRONTIER DISTRICT OF ASTOR

Probably they have been entirely cleared out since the
occupation of Gilgit by a British garrison ; the information,
therefore, that held good a few years ago would now be
misleading.

These are the famous markhor grounds of the Astor
district of years gone by. Game used then to be found
during the end of the season round the broad base of Nanga
Parbat, and in plenty in the Damot and Jagot valleys
across the Indus, opposite Biinji. Behind Nanga Parbat,
in the direction of Chilas, between the Indus and the
Kashmir border, good markhor used to be found. But
the Kashmir officials were unwilling to allow European
sportsmen to occupy those valleys, for the reasons already
given, and the British Eesident in Kashmir generally
limited the wanderings of his countrymen in this direction
by ruling that the Kashmir border should be the boundary
of their excursions. From the Lolosar lake on the road
to Chilas, from the Upper Panjab to the bend in the Indus
below Ramghat, is a distance of seventy or eighty miles.
The frontier line runs along the water-parting of the range ;
the Indus is about fifteen or twenty miles from it. The
valleys that drain this extent of country were never visited
by Europeans in former years. I have no doubt that,
under the new regime, they are now open to sportsmen,
and good heads should be obtained there.

Of course there are large tracts of country in the
neighbourhood of the Astor district where markhor
abound ; but they are hardly yet available. In a few
years, no doubt, they will become accessible, and then the
mountain hunter will have a vast extent of new ground
to range.

It should be taken for granted that ibex will always
be found where markhor abound, but at a much higher
elevation. They are numerous on all the higher ranges,

HAUNTS OF THE URIN 35

and can be hunted in many localities on the route from
Kashmir to Astor, Bunji, and beyond.

Urin are found from the Bunji plain along the range
on the left bank of the Astor, across the lower slopes of
the Nanga Parbat, above Chhagum, and as far as the Mir
Malik valley. I do not think they wander beyond this
river. They are restless animals, and are on the move
constantly backwards and forwards between the limits
named. They spend their winter in the Bunji plain and
the low hills in its neighbourhood. As summer approaches,
they wander up the spurs from the Hatti'i Pass, proceed
along that range, round the base of Nanga Parbat, as far
as the Mir Malik. They reverse this order on the
approach of the cold months. These journeys are regularly
performed by well-known pathways ; in consequence, the
patient local sportsmen lie out for them at favourable
points along the route, and bag a great many without any
exertion or trouble whatever. The Kotwal of Bunji (son
of Wazir Piozi Khan) was a w^ell-known hand at this kind
of pot-shooting.

Brown bears are most numerous in the upper valley of
Astor to the south, along the routes leading from Giires to
that district. They are rare in the markhor grounds.

CHAPTEE III

MAEKHOK SHOOTING

Start for mavklior ground— Tragic tale of " Blinp Singh's Parlii"— My
shooting establishment— My first stalk— Dangerous ground— Firing
down a precipice— A good shot — Bag my first niarkhor— Another hunt —
Mysterious niarkhor, not approachable- Leave Garai nahi— Weak-eyed
Khushal Khan— Bad road— A travelling bear— Kashmiri system of
road-making- The Maharajah's sappers and miners— A heart-breaking
road— Two Sappers of the Kashmir Engineers in very bad case—
Ramghat and its bridge— The guard in chaige— Pass a bad night— The
Bunji plain — Good iirin ground — Bunji — The commandant of the fort
— He makes a lucky mistake— Cross the Indus— Reach Damot village —
A pleasant spot — Wazir Bughdor Shah.

I LEFT Astur at a quarter-past five in the morning on the
3rd May, and after a long inarch came to the Garai nala,
and camped some distance up. This was the place said
to contain large markhor. It looked promising, but I did
not believe tliat large horns were to be found here.
Sharafa told me the story of " Bhiip Singh's Parhi," or
rock. This is a large flat rock on the road from Bunji to
Gilgit, on the Gilgit river. It overhangs the bank, and a
large number of men can obtain shelter under it. Bhiip
Singh was a colonel in Giilab Singh's service, and had a
thousand men under his command, whom he was taking
to Gilgit. He camped under the flat rocks for the night ;
next morning he found himself blocked up in this rat-trap
by three Diird brothers — rebels. These three brave men

36

MY SHOOTING ESTABLISHMENT 37

kept the colonel and his regiment shut in for several days.
At last, after a parley, Bhup Singh and his men were
allowed to come out, on condition that they left their arms
behind. All did so except two Furhids (southerners —
men from Hindustan), who refused to give up their arms.
The defenceless men, being well away from the rocks, were
surrounded by the three brothers and their retainers, who
butchered them on the spot. The two Piirbias jumped
into the river with their swords and swam down to Bunji,
the only survivors of Bhup Singh's regiment. This is the
native account ; the authentic story may be read in Drew's
work. Our Northern Barrier.

I had brought with me only one servant from the plains
— a Khidmatsar, or table servant, a weak-kneed and slim
young Mahomedan, whose first experience this was in
snow travelling. He did not like it at all ; the night he
spent in the snowstorm at Eiat, he said, was the most
wretched he had ever passed in his life ! He stood in
great awe of the shikari Sharafa, whom he called Bara
Mian (" Great Sir "), and treated with the greatest respect.
He addressed the coolies as " my brothers " whenever he
asked them to mend their pace or do anything for him,
and in consequence was frankly laughed at. Altogether
he had a bad time of it, being completely out of his
element. I had given him an old cloth coat and a pair of
warm trousers ; they were a very bad fit, but gave him a
certain air of distinction. With a blue pugri round his
head and a pair of blue goggles, he had the appearance of
a decayed Persian gentleman. Sharafa, the shikari, should
have received attention first, as the most important
man of my following. I engaged him a month before my
expedition began, on the recommendation of the author of
that most useful book Tlie Sportsman's Guide to Kashmir,
whom I have to thank for his good selection, as well as

o

S MARKHOR SHOOTINXx

for the very valuable information he gave me. Sharafa
was a handsome man, tall, well-made, and very gentle, but
manlv withal in his bearing and manners. He had honest
soft brown eves that inspired confidence. He was good-
tempered, very tactful, and managed the coolies and people
of the country in a manner that I have never seen excelled
by any Kashmiri shikari.

Xext was Gharib Kaka, or " old cock Gharib." He
was small and slightly built, past middle age, weak-
looking and troubled with a bad coudi. The most
remarkable features about him were his bushy eyebrows
and the keen steady eyes that belong only to the born
shikari. He had two weaknesses — he was very garrulous
and too fond of the hukka (native pipe) ; the latter was
a bond of union between him and my table servant, as no
one else in camp smoked. Ghari'ba was a Dard, and had
accompanied other sportsmen after markhor ; his local
knowledcje was most useful. The "Wazir also gave me a
sipahi (soldier) to look after supplies, an arrangement
that saved me much trouble. Manawar Khan was a
Kashmiri, who had a thorough knowledge of the country
and villacres on mv route, I hired nine coolies from
Kashmir to carrv the basjgage, at a monthlv wacje of five
rupees each ; only two of them deserve particular mention.
Jamala (or " Jamal din," as he was called when he stood
on his dignity) was " tiffin coolie," to accompany me
when after game, carrying the food, spare grass shoes,
etc. Jafar Bata was the bhi'sti (water-carrier) and general
assistant to the table servant ; he was a strong, square-
built man, with a determined countenance, and a bullying
manner that broutjht him to the front. The others were
mere baggage animals. My camp equipage consisted of a
small tent six feet square for myself, and a smaller one for
the servant and his cooking operations. "When starting from

CAMP EQUIPAGE 39

Bandpura, I found the carriage difficulty so pressing, even
at that early stage of my journey, that I left my camp-bed,
table, and chair there in charge of the contractor who
provided travellers with supplies. I had to leave there
also all my tinned provisions and other superfluities,
arranging with the contractor to send out small quantities
by the postman w^ho was engaged to bring out my letters
every fortnight or so. In this way I lightened my baggage
considerably, and secured a constant supply of provisions.
All necessaries were contained in three waterproof
" ruchsacks," or Swiss shooting - bags (most convenient
things for this kind of work). The provisions and cooking
apparatus were carried in kiltas (wicker baskets covered
with leather), and kept in the servants' tent. These kiltas
were the weak point in my arrangements — they were too
large and heavy ; the coolies were always shirking them,
and those carrying them always came in last. My
tent was generally pitched on the most level spot to be
found, and the cooking tent on one side of it. The
shikaris and coolies put up wherever they could find
shelter, but very often they slept out in the open round a
blazing log fire.

I started early the next morning, and went up the
slope just above camp ; then turned down towards the
Astor river and got on the ridge dividing the Garai from
the Amatabar nula. After searching the opposite side of
the latter ravine for a long time, I saw some ibex only. The
two shikaris went farther down on the Garai side, and after
an hour Sharafa came back and said he had marked down
some markhor. I went with him, but no markhor were to
be seen ! Sharafa looked puzzled, as he had not been away
more than fifteen minutes ; but after watching for an hour I
gave it up, found a soft place, had a sleep, and then break-
fast. I had just finished when the marklior were seen

40 MARKHOR SHOOTING

again ; they were much lower down on the ridge we were
on, and we had to watch them for a couple of hours, as
they were restless and could not decide upon a place for
their mid-day rest : they did come to an anchor at last,
but in terribly difficult ground. In fact, it seemed to me,
unacquainted with the locality, utterly impossible to get
within shot ; but Gharib Kaka was equal to the occasion :
he took us back a little, and then descended below the
level of the off side of the ridge, out of sight of the game.
The going was awful — loose crumbling rocks all the way,
in most places ground into gravel and sand, and the slope
down which we had to slide was very abrupt : I could
hardly get any footing, and the gravel and stones rolled
down at every step, making noise enough to frighten away
game a mile off. It took us a long time to get down ;
and the blazing sun right overhead added to my distress.
The heat was something frightful, and there was not a tree
anywhere until we were nearly over the markhor. We
came then to some stunted pines, and halted at once.

After a short rest we moved on again ; the ground was
the same crumbling stuff, and as we were now nearing
our game, additional caution was necessary to prevent
noise, and the going became very slow and aggravating,
as, tread gingerly as I could, the stones luould roll. We
did at last reach the precipices below which we had
marked down the game, and, after dangerous and painful
(and very cautious) craning over the brink, I saw one
young markhor lying in the shade of a tree more than
two hundred yards off. The others, the larger ones, could
not be seen — they were evidently right under us, below
the precipice, and out of sight. Ghariba at last found a
way down a short distance to a lower ledge, and we
followed. From this point we could see one more, and
here we had to wait patiently on the brink of a sheer

A GOOD SHOT 41

precipice till the markhor moved into a better position.
Tiie heat was so terrific that I soon gave in, and went up
again to the shade of the trees, though there was veiy
little of it. After long waiting the markhor moved, and I
went down again ; but to fire down almost perpendicularly
was impossible without following up the bullet in person, and
1 was not so enthusiastic : nor could a rest be found for the
rifle. Three of the markhor at last moved lower down and
farther away from the precipice, and I became anxious,
as they were getting out of range. The fourth and largest,
the one on which I had set my heart, had not yet been
seen : he was still Ivincr down riaht below me. After
screwing about and craning over, I did at last see him,
but my struggles attracted his notice : he looked up, rose
at once and ran down to the others, who also became
alarmed and began quickly moving off. In desperation I
went as close to the brink of the precipice as I dared,
made Sharafa hold me by the belt behind, and covered
the biggest. He stood for a moment facing to my left,
and I fired. The bullet hit, and I could see the animal's
legs fly from under him, as he rolled head over heels
down the hillside and fell into the ravine out of si^ht.

O

I was rather astonished at my good luck. The distance
was certainly two hundred and fifty yards, and I used the
first sight. The •■450 Express did its duty- — -all honour to
Henry. This was the Xo. 2 rifle of the pair — the one
with which I killed the bear. It was my second shot at
game, and I had bagged both times. Ghariba went down
and brought up the head, and we returned the way we
came. It was a frightful pull up hill ; but since we had
not now to mind the stones rollins; down, it was not so bad
as the descent. The sun, thouo-h it was evenin;::, still
punished me, and I wanted a drink sadly ; some shouting
brouffht Jamala down, but of course he left the tea bottle

42 MARKHOR SHOOTING

above, and had to go up again for it, as I refused to
stir till I had had a drink. Ghariba got some snow for
himself and Sharafa. He plastered it on a rock facing the
sun, and the water was soon dripping from it into a hollow,
from which they drank — a very slow process for thirsty
people ; I had finished all my tea by the time they had had
a couple of mouthfuls. Having enjoyed my tea, I marched
very contentedly back to camp, though the grass shoes had
punished my feet severely. Grass shoes in this dry stony
country are certainly not the best things to wear ; a day's
work wore out two or three pairs ; they soon get loose and
twist over on to the instep in a very aggravating manner,
when one is walkino- aloncr a hillside.

I stayed in camp next day, as my feet were sore, and
Sharafa had to prepare the head and skin of the markhor.
The horns were 30 '5 inches long, and the girth round
the base was 11*5 inches; divergence at tip, 26 inches.
The length was below the average, but the other measure-
ments were good, and the horns were a handsome pair.
When the coolies brought in the carcase, we found that the
bullet had hit the markhor behind the small ribs, touching
the spine, which was not much injured ; the shock, how-
ever, must have quite paralysed it. "We found this flock
of markhor very low down, much lower than I imagined
they ever went. The two largest had white coats, the
other two were very small, and of a dark colour : I got
the largest of the lot. The shikaris went up Amatabar to
look for markhor. By the way, when I got out rifle
No. 1 , 1 found I had been using the barrel of No. 2 on the
stock of No. 1 — proof of the perfection which the gunmaker
has attained.

I heard to-day that the Dichal valley was not likely
to be vacant for some time, or indeed at all. Every
one of the usual markhor valleys was occupied ; so I had

ANOTHER HUNT 43

simply to go on and on until 1 came to good ground
which I could occupy. The shik;iris returned in the
evening, saying they had seen two large m;irkhor — one
very old and emaciated, and with horns of three curves.
Accordingly I got up early and went straight up hill
above camp. After a long pull we got to the top of the
lidge dividing the Garai from the Amatabar, and after
some searching with glasses the shikaris spotted a large
markhor on a ridge of rocks on the opposite side, but he
was not the three-curved one. I never saw this animal
the whole day, and for a very good reason — he existed
only in the imaginations of my men. Ghari'ba said there
was no way of getting at the markhor opposite, unless
we went up the valley a day's journey, and then came
back on the other side. If we went straight down and
up, the quarry would see us before we had gone a
hundred yards ; so there was nothing to do but study his
manners and customs during the day, in the hope that he
would get into a more favourable position by evening. I
examined him carefully through the big telescope ; he was
not much larger than the one I had shot, but his horns
perhaps were a few inches longer. I could see plainly
that they diverged outwards in a very remarkable way.
He seemed very uneasy and alarmed ; he did not graze
for more than five minutes at a time in any one spot,
though it was his feeding time, but kept to the rocks,
looking about. It appeared to me that he was either ill
or wounded, or had very lately been fired at. The
shikaris said a shot was heard here the day we came up
— most likely a shepherd's. We saw a ilock of ibex
higher up the valley, but no big horns.

In these valleys the wind blows upwards from sunrise
to sunset, and the reverse way during the night. Sharafa
had studied this part of his work thoroughly, and was

44 MARKHOR SHOOTING

always correct in his conclusions regarding the wind's
direction. Ibex are always found higher up the valleys
than markhor : the latter seem able to endure heat better
than ibex, but they stick much more closely to rocky
precipices and dangerous ground than the ibex, who gener-
ally graze and wander about on level grassy hillsides for
longer periods than markhor. It was an unsatisfactory
business watching that markhor, as it turned out : having
studied the wary brute all day while he kept to his rocks,
he crossed the ridge and disappeared from sight just as
the sun was setting ; no doubt he went across to have his
evening's feed, and must have come back to his citadel for
the night after we left for camp.

On the following day I went up early to the ridge
where I shot the markhor, but could see nothing for a
long time. At last there was a great rattling of stones
under the precipice I was sitting over, and soon after
some females and one small markhor were sighted far
below. The buck was last — a very small fellow, hardly
full grown. Wanting meat, I had two shots at him, and
gladly put on record that I missed. I returned to camp
at noon, turning a deaf ear to the shikari who tempted me
with stories of magnificent ibex higher up this valley ; I
wanted markhor first, and so prepared for a move to other
ground,

Eeturning by the road we came, we reached Dashkin at
two o'clock. Coolies were not procurable, so I remained
for the day. No tent was put up, so I had to dodge the
sun round a bush. While I was having tea under my
bush, an old man from the village came up ; he told me
that he was formerly one of the lambardi'irs of Dashkin,
and was turned out because he was out-bribed by the
present holder of the appointment. It seems the Wazir
makes him the head-man who bribes highest. My

A TRAVELLING BEAR 45

visitor had weak eyes, and wanted medicine for them, so I
told him to wash them often in fresh goat's milk. He
remarked he was strong enough otherwise, though eighty
years old. He remembered Hayward very well, and
mentioned his name. He passed through Dashkin on his
way to Yasi'n.

We left Dashkin at half-past three in the morning ; it
was very dark, as the moon was behind the hill ; we had
to use the lantern for an hour or so. After starting, we
came on the fresh droppings of a bear on the pathway.
He was travellino; in the same direction that we were
going, and could not have been far ahead of us, but the
lantern and the noise we made no doubt soon alarmed
him. We reached Tor-billing village (three huts only)
soon after six. From these huts there is a short cut to
the Biildar nald, a famous ground for markhor ; it was,
of course, occupied. There are a great number of roads
about here ; I noticed this in many other places on my
journey up. The explanation given was that when the
Wazi'r of the district was hard-up for money, he wrote to
Kashmir that he had discovered a new line of country, by
which a much better and shorter road could be made, if
the funds were supplied. The funds generally were
supplied, a new path was made by the people of the
country, and the Wazir replenished his private treasure-
chest with the cash. At Doi'n village there was another
road much higher up than the path I was on, called the
" Mule Eoad " ; there was another below, and I could
plainly see a third across the river, on the opposite edge
of the valley. Half-way between Doin and the highest
ridge, about the middle of one of the zigzags along
a precipice, we met two Sappers of the Kashmir Engineers
coming from Biinji. One was leaning against the rocky
side of the path, looking so sick that I thought him at the

46 MARKHOR SHOOTING

point of death ; his companion was sitting close by ahnost
as helpless. The former had given out at this point, and
could go no farther, so the two had made up their minds
to pass the night here. Such a place to spend the night !
The wind was blowing cold, there was a slight drizzle, and
the men were clothed in the scantiest rags ; stones and
rocks were constantly falling from above, and crossed the
path with a whiz like that of a bullet ; but these poor
creatures were too apathetic to care. They had some rice,
but could not cook it, having neither wood nor water.
Sharafa rose to the occasion : pulling some sticks from the
floor of the path (which was laid along beams fixed in the
rock), he made them a fire, filled their pot with water, and
arranged for the cooking of their rice. As it was getting
late, we had to leave, advising the two Sappers to move
lower down to a safer place after their meal. Both were
Baltis (natives of Baltistan or Little Tibet).

I was informed that the whole corps of " Safar
maina " was recruited from that country — that is to
say, were forcibly taken from their homes, sent under an
escort to some distant part whence they could not desert,
and formed into regiments of Sappers for work on the
roads, etc. They never saw their country again ! Several
times during this journey I met parties of these poor
creatures carrying their tools, a long-handled matchlock,
cooking-pots and several days' provisions, in the shape of
a bag of flour, and toiling along the road to and from
Astor. Their dejected air and humble mien were dis-
tressing. They were all Shias, and consequently heretics,
and treated by the Siinnis (orthodox Musalmans) as the
scum of the earth. "We reached Eiimghat at 7.45 p.m.,
rather fagged ; the descent was rough, but nothing in
comparison with the path on the other side. Eamghat is
a bridge on the Astor river, with some sepoys' huts about

PASS A BAD NIGHT 47

it — a most horrible place. The hillsides come straight
down to the water's edge on both sides, and there was no
level space for anything. There was one hut near the
bridge, and a large cave higher up. The sepoys have to
fish in the river for passing logs to use as fuel. I had to
put up here for the night, as there was a bad place just
beyond the bridge, and the coolies refused to cross in the
dark. My quarters were unsavoury, to say the least ; but
I was tired out, so was not altogether sorry to stay. I did
not get much sleep ; a hurricane was blowing down the
river, and the sand and grit hailed upon me the whole
night, like charges of small shot ; it was very hot, too, and
alto<Tether I had a disagreeable time of it.

We started at three o'clock, and, following a very bad

road, came out upon a plain, sloping down from the range

on the right to the level of the Indus. The ground is

very stony, and cut up by narrow channels made by the

rush of rain-water down to the river. This is the

famous Biinji plain, where lirin (wild sheep) are so

numerous during the winter. It is a very ugly bit of

country, without a tree or blade of grass to relieve its

monotony. After toiling two hours along this seemingly

endless desert, we came suddenly to the brink of a deep,

broad ravine, with a small stream running at the bottom.

This is the Biinji nala, and on the other side is Biinji

itself, smothered in green trees. There w^ere green fields,

too, and lots of running water: what a contrast to

the country we had just passed through ! We reached

Biinji at half-past six and, after a rest, visited the post

office, and made the acquaintance of Commandant Bagh

Singh, in charge of the fort at Biinji. He was very kind

and obliging, owing to a happy mistake on his part.

After making a few inquiries, he suddenly came to the

conclusion that I was an old friend of his who used to be

48 MARKHOR SHOOTING

very kind to liiai in the plains a few years ago. He said
I was not altered in the least after so many years' toil in
the heat, and recognised me, nay, every feature in my face,
at once ! I had never met him in my life before, but did
not feel called upon to correct the lucky mistake. The
result was that my arrangements were completed in an
hour, and I was allowed to cross the Indus and make for
my hunting ground without any opposition. There was a
standing order that no sporting gentleman, nor any other,
was to cross the river, as the country on the other side
was considered dangerous. All I was asked to do was to
write a few lines, saying that if anything happened to me
on the other side, no one was to be blamed, and that I
went entirely on my own responsibility, There was,
however, I think, another reason : a sportsman had already
crossed. That being the case, it was rather difficult for
the officials at the fort to make objections to my crossing.
I was informed that my precursor had had some difficulty,
but he arranged it by some management on the part of
his shikari. I had no particular desire to have my sport
across the Indus — I was simply driven in that direction
by force of circumstances. All the good Cis - Indus
shooting grounds were occupied, and I did not care to go
farther up the river in the direction of the Bara Loma, as I
had already come far enough, and my leave was for three
months only. Hearing that there was a vacant valley on
the right bank of the river, I made for it at once, and the
excellent Commandant Bagh Singh, by his mistake, facili-
tated my movements in no small degree.

We crossed the Indus at mid-day, and went on at once to
the village of Daraot — the valley that was to be my hunt-
ino- ground. The sportsman before me had been shooting
for the last fortnight, but, as he had bagged nothing, I
thought there was a chance of picking up a couple of good

WAZIR BUGHDOR SHAH 49

heads. We moved up to the next valley, Jagot, where I
heard he was equally unsuccessful. My tent was pitched
under a beautiful wide-spreading walnut tree, round which
had been built a broad and clean platform. The Damut
stream flowed below, a few paces off, and there were a few
houses of the village some distance above. It was a
pleasant spot. I made the acquaintance here of Wazi'r
Bughdur Shah, the head-man of this and the neighbouring
villages, and the Kashmiri official in charge of affairs on
this side of the river. The Wazir was a tall, well-made,
gentlemanly-looking man, of very dignified deportment.
He was an agreeable old fellow, fond of saying his prayers,
and very conscious of his dignity.

CHAPTEE IV

MAKKHOR SHOOTING — {continued)

Village of Damot— Compulsory labour— March np the valley— Good signs of
markhor— One killed by leopard— Theory regarding horns — Anightout —
A black bear's family— A fatiguing and useless ascent— Game not visible
— Meet a brown bear, but lose my chance— Sight a markhor at last —
The stalk impossible — A tramp of thirteen hours— Find a fifty-two inch
l;iorn — Markhor get the upper hand — An extemporised observatory —
Begin a stalk of twenty-four hours— Failure at first— Great exposure —
A bad night under a rock— Hard work again— Make bad shooting— A
last and lucky shot — Bag a forty-seven incher — A "halaling" dispute
— The theory of "halaling" — Dimensions of markhor shot.

I FOUND the surroundings so pleasant at this village that I
halted here to rest and to make the necessary arrangements
for my shoot in the valley above.

Biiohdor Shah has all the villages as far as Chakarkot
under his charge. They are all on or near the high road
to Gilgit, and the begari work (compulsory labour) fell
heavily on the people : there was a constant stream of
officers and men to and from Gilgit, and their baggage had
to be carried by the villagers, who did two marches in
either direction before they could be relieved. In the
Astor direction they went as far as Dashkin, and by result
they were constantly absent from their fields for three and
four days at a time.

As this went on during all seasons of the year, the
people were very hard pressed. Many homes were broken

50

^lARCH UP DAMOT VALLEY 51

lip ; the men ran away across the border, which is, here,
only a few miles off, and settled in villages beyond the
influence of this tyranny. The Wazi'r complained bitterly
of the difficulty of his position. On the one hand, he had
to satisfy the constant demands for carriage ; on the other,
he had to see to the cultivation of the fields by means of
the men he had to send away as porters. The system of
compulsory labour is very oppressive in every part of
Kashmir, and it is greatly aggravated by the numbers of
English travellers who wander about this country for eight
months of the year. Kozi Kh;in of Astor was also very
bitter on this subject. Every head-man I met and spoke
to brought it forward at once as the grievance of the
people, and I myself have been witness more than once of
the hardships they endured through it : for instance, the
coolie difficulty at Marmai.

The Damot valley is easy going along the streams for
some distance. I passed the family mansion of the Wazir
in a shady grove of fruit-trees, surrounded by a stone wall,
water sparkling and murmuring in every direction — a
pleasant spot. Mulberry trees and cultivation were
scattered along the waterside all the way, flocks of goats
were feeding about, wild rose trees were in full bloom,
and a gentle breeze blowing in my face brought the fresh
scent of the flowers. The morning was cloudy and cool,
and I enjoyed the walk immensely. The valley is narrow ;
steep, rocky hills on either side, without a trace of
vegetation on them ; the green bits along the water's edge
are real gems in a very rough setting. Our camping
place was about four miles from the village, and on
reaching it I sent back three coolies, reducing the party
to six — Sharafa, Ghariba, Mirza Khan (local shikari),
breakfast coolie Jamala, and two others. I left the tent
and heavy baggage behind, also the khidmatg;ir. All my

52 MARKHOR SHOOTING

supplies came from the village, so it was well to reduce
the number of men with me. My own food was cooked
at the village and sent up daily. The shikaris went on
after we camped in order to view the ground higher up,
and I remained behind. Towards evening, while lying on
the ground, my eyes wandering over the steep hillside
before me, I saw a female markhor on a rock a few
hundred yards above, sharply defined against the sky. I
went down with Ghariba to a ravine on the left of the
main stream, to watch in case there might be a buck close
by, but we saw only three females coming down the ridge^
under which a flock of goats were grazing. The markhor
evidently wanted to come down for a drink, but were
afraid to venture so low. After watching them for a while,
we came back to camp and found there Sharafa, who said
he had seen only two males, a great distance off, high up
on the ridge above camp.

We started early, and went straight up a nala, turning
up the hillside over our camping place, a steady ascent
for more than two hours. Many old signs of very large
markhor were visible, but no trace of the two bucks seen
on the previous evening, so we crossed the ridge and
descended to the next nala. Having had breakfast at a
spring, we scrambled down the face of a precipice, holding
on to ledges, and went up the valley, which is a very
narrow one ; but the wind began to blow very strongly
upwards, that is, from us, and as there was also slight rain,
we lay up for a time until the wind abated. Sharafa found
the head, horns, and backbone of a markhor that had been
killed about twelve days previously, evidently an old buck,
judging from the long beard ; but the horns were only
thirty-four and a half inches long, and were quite joined
together at the base. This, and their shortness, Mirza
Khan said, was due to the owner being one of a pair of

A NIGHT OUT 53

twins — an item in natural history that should be noted.
My informant meant that when a female markhor brings
forth only one kid, the horns, if a male, grow to great size ;
but when two are brought forth, the horns are small. He
said a leopard had killed it, and, as we saw fresh traces of
a leopard on the ridge above, the absence of markhor was
probably explained. The ground was first-rate for them,
and Mirza Khan said this nala was always a sure find. I
sent down Ghariba and a coolie to bring up bedding and
food, as I intended staying out the night, so as to be on
the next ridge and valley early in the morning. Mirza
Khan said the markhor must be there, as they had been
driven out of this by the leopard. Eain began again in
the evening, accompanied by a very cold wind, but my
shelter was dry and comfortable. It was a hollow under
a huge rock, nicely cleaned out, and dry grass spread at the
bottom. Mirza Khan said this was one of his " shooting-
boxes." At certain times of the year he concealed himself
here, and when the markhor came down to drink at the
spring, he shot them.

I passed a fairly comfortable night, and the morning
was bright and clear. We went up the left side of the
valley above the spring and on to a ridge, whence we looked
for markhor, but saw none. Sharafa discovered two very
small black bear cubs playing at the mouth of a cave ;
there was no sign of the mother. I watched the cubs
climbing and wrestling for nearly two hours from the top
of a rock, twenty yards off; the white half-moons on
their chests were distinctly visible, and the point of the
under jaw was of a reddish colour. Sharafa said some
have the point of the lower jaw white, and that those with
the reddish colour were always the fiercest. We came to
the conclusion that the mother was in the cave, as it was
unlikely she would go far from such young cubs. So I

54 MARKHOR SHOOTING

got the rifle ready and had stones thrown into the cave.
No result. We did not proceed to extremities, as I was
not anxious to shoot her, for the youngsters would certainly
have died of starvation. Higher up the ridge we came to
a forest of birch and fir, with rocky places here and there
— ^just the spots for markhor, but we could not find a sign
of them. We went up higher, close to the snow-line, saw
nothing, and descended into the valley. A short distance
down we passed many places where markhor droppings lay
in heaps, but all of old date.

Next day we were out again at five o'clock. Soon after
seven we sat down on the first spur, and searched the hill-
sides carefully, but saw nothing. My predecessor must
have frightened all the game farther up, for, though he
bagged nothing, he had had a good many shots. We now
changed our direction and toiled straight up till we
reached a ridge of flat slate rocks, four and a half hours
from starting. This was the greatest grind I yet had,
going straight up without a halt. When I got to the pine
forest I was thoroughly done. This seemed to me to be
quite over-doing the business; two days at least should
have been spent over the extent of ground we did this
morning. I saw traces of markhor now and then, but all
old, I was certain we had come too high ; this ground
must be their headquarters later on, in July perhaps,
when it gets very hot lower down. It was too cold for
them so high up just now : there was a good deal of snow
lying about still. All the places we visited were splendid
for markhor, and they must be numerous here at the
proper season. Mirza Khan was in the habit of hunting
them later in the year, when he had harvested his corn and
came up to the grassy slopes to graze his goats during the
rutting season (October). He had found them here then,
and so concluded they would be found in the same place

MEET A BROWN BEAR 55

in May, After breakfast, and half an hour's rest, we went
along the hillside ; and after going some distance, and
getting low down, we heard a cry, which Sharafa said
was that of a very young bear cub. Soon after, we
sighted the mother and youngster very low down. We
at once went for them, but it was very difficult ground,
and we had to go slowly and cautiously. It now began
to rain and sleet ; the bears, too, began to move towards
us for a short distance, and then crossed to a slope on our
right. We waited for them to come up opposite us, when
they would have been only fifty yards off, but, unluckily,
they went straight along the hillside, and did not ascend
in our direction. Sharafa entreated me to fire when they
were a hundred yards off, but, feeling certain they would
come closer, I lost my chance. The wind was most un-
certain. The bears must have scented us, for we never
saw them again, though we followed their tracks at a good
pace, on fair ground, for some distance. This was very
disappointing, for the female was a very large one, and had
a splendid dirty-white coat ; the hair on her sides almost
touched the ground. The cub was half-grown. I was
very savage with myself for not taking my only chance of
a sliot. I was rather fagged now, and my left knee was
painful, as I had given it a bad knock in the hurry of
following the bears — it was the knee I smashed in an
exactly similar manner ten years before ; my feet also
were very sore from so many hours of continuous walking,
so we made for camp along a very rough and steep goat-
track. When we got round the shoulder of the hill, we
were in sight of, but still far above, the camp on the main
stream. Sharafa had seated himself to have a rest and to
examine the rocks, when suddenly he spied a large male
markhor among the cliffs on the right, about a thousand
yards off, above us a little and in a most impossible-

56 MARKHOR SHOOTING

looking place. He came suddenly round a corner on to
a sheet of sloping rock, and kept turning and looking
about, showing all his grand points, as if in derision. He
had a splendid pair of horns, with two curves, wide-
spreading, and with a grand sweep. They were at least
fifty inches in length ; he looked a veritable monster,
with his great flowing beard, and shaggy coat hanging
down his sides, light in colour on the fore part, darker on
the hind quarters, quite different from the dirty-white
colour of the one I shot in the Garai. We saw only this
one, but Mirza Khan insisted that there were several
others, and that this was one of the flock we had been seek-
ing all day. While we had been toiling and sweating at
the back of the range looking for them, they were quietly
feeding about these cliffs, not half a mile from the camp, and
actually in sight of it ! When we made the first halt in
this morning's ascent and searched this hillside in this
very direction, they could not have been farther from us
than they were now ; they must then have been feeding
in some grassy ravine out of sight. It was now four
o'clock, and too late to do anything, for to get at the
markhor it would be necessary to go back and up the
gorge where the bears had bolted, then round the top of
the ridge to the edge of the precipice below the place
where we saw the markhor. This could not be done
before night set in. The grand old buck came down a
little way, fed for about five minutes, went up again and
disappeared round a projecting point, and we did not see
him again. I had the tents and the khidmatgar brought
up here, and made this the base of my operations, for the
shooting grounds were too far from the village to be
convenient. I was now in the centre of the valley, about
six miles from the village, and the same distance from the
line of watershed on the main range. I was on the tramp

A FIFTY-TWO INCH HORN 57

this day for thirteen hours (too much for pleasure), and my
feet were very sore. I must add that about an hour after
leaving camp, Sharafa picked up an old markhor horn,
which measured fifty-two inches ! A shepherd told us he
had seen a flock of ten markhor two days before on the
left of the main stream a little below camp.

I remained in my tent for a rest next day, sending
Ghariba and Mirza Khan to search for the flock seen by
the shepherd. They returned in the evening, having seen
nothing, though they came across plenty of fresh tracks,
etc., but about the same time Sharafa sighted a flock of
seven markhor on the opposite hillside, some distance up,
just above our camp. There was great excitement in
consequence — fires were put out, coolies crawled about on
hands and knees to get under cover, and spoke in whispers.
An observatory was extemporised at the tent door, and the
binocular and telescope were permanently focussed on the
animals above us. These observations began at 4 p.m. and
went on till 7 p.m. The single markhor seen the previous
evening must have been one of this lot — they were nearly
in the same place. They grazed down gradually in a
slanting direction, and came very low, evidently wishing
to come down to the stream for a drink, but afraid of the
camp. They were last seen on a hill slope, half a mile
from camp, up stream : but as we were below them all the
time, we could not stir, and watched them patiently for a
chance which never came.

The markhor were in the same place next morning, and
we started in a very hopeful frame of mind, but had great
difficulty in getting along, as they were in sight, and we
were below them. The wind was blowing from our direction,
and, as we had to push along without viewing the game,
the stalk failed ; it could not have been otherwise under
such conditions. The markhor had the better of us, both

58 MARKHOR SHOOTING

as to wind and sight, simply because they were above us —
and they scored. After going along cautiously for a time,
we heard their note of alarm, and knew we had been
discovered. Shortly after, we saw them making straight
for the precipitous rocks on the sky-line. When they
were out of sight, we followed and went along below the
cliffs, scrambled up some ugly places, and soon after came
on our footmarks of the 14th, and up we went again
along that same toilsome ascent. We followed our old
footsteps till we came to the fir forest, then Mirza Khan
took us along the hillside ; but when we came to the
rocky ledge overlooking the spot where the markhor had
been last seen, they had vanished. I had breakfast and
started again at ten, Alirza Khan, who knew every inch
of the ground, and also all the dodges of the wily
markhor, leading ; he concluded that they had topped the
ridge, crossed the fir forest, and made off for a fresh
resting-place higher up, and behind the ridge bounding the
pine forest on the other side. His forecast was perfectly
correct. After going a short distance, we came on fresh
tracks, showing that they had run fast through the forest.
They must have crossed here while we were toiling up to
the steep, and have got our wind again. We followed the
tracks to the opposite side of the valley, bounded by a
rocky ridge, terminating in a very precipitous hill, up
and round which the markhor had gone. I remained
below, while Mirza Khan and Sharafa followed up to see
if they could see them on the other side. This was a
dangerous piece of work, and evidently Sharafa did not
like it. Mirza Khan, knowing the ground, went first, and
the last I saw of them was climbing a pine-tree in a
narrow cleft between two rocks, which apparently was the
only way of doubling round the hill : from the top of the
tree they jumped out of sight. An hour afterwards they

GREAT EXPOSURE 59

reversed the performance and came doivn the same way.
They had not seen the runaways, but reported a solitary
markhor sitting on a rocky ledge on the oiher side of a
ravine. Mirza Khan now led us over some very awkward
ground, an open spot in the forest, where we stopped and
examined the rocks where the solitary male had been seen,
and by good luck sighted our friends, the seven, at once !

For two hours we watched them from this breezy ridge.
The snow lay in large patches, and the wind was cutting,
and I suffered severely from sitting so long in a cramped
and exposed position ; but the markhor at last grazed
away down the slope, crossed the ridge, and disappeared :
this was about 5 p.m. I got off the ridge and into my
overcoat at once, and had something to eat with a sip of
tea, then walked briskly up and down hill to get warm,
but it took time before my teeth stopped chattering.
Jamala had been sent down for food and bedding in the
mornincr, as soon as we had made certain that the markhor
would give us a long chase, and I was now determined to
follow them till I trot a chance. Mirza Khtin was on his
mettle too, and vowed he would track them till he brought
me within ransre. The coolies were heard below in the
forest just as the markhor had crossed over, so we went
down a short distance and whistled them up. We then
went along a goat-track till we reached the ridge a good
way above the point where the markhor had disappeared,
crossed it, and went down the other side for half a mile,
until we found a suitable place, and camped for the night
under some rocks, late in the evening. It had been raining
during the day, and it now began to sleet and snow. It
was the more disagreeable, as the rock I was under only
half protected me, and I could not keep my bedding dry.

Dinner was a difficult performance under the circum-
stances. I was established on a shelf two feet wide,

6o MARKHOR SHOOTING

beyond which the hillside fell away abruptly, while at my
back the rock rose perpendicular. Dinner consisted of
two lumps of tinned beef and two chapatis (cakes) cooked
the day before. It was dark, and the lantern had to be
lighted, then the umbrella had to be opened, and it
had to be held — trifles which become serious tasks in a
high wind. My attention was equally divided between
the lantern, which threatened every moment to take a
header down hill, the umbrella, which tried to elope with
every gust that came round the corner, and my own
mouth. I managed them all, for I was hungry, but I
have enjoyed more comfortable dinners. However, after
the eating apparatus had been put away, the umbrella
folded, and a glass of whisky and water stowed away over
the dinner, I was contented. The sense of comfort that
creeps over the sportsman at this hour, just before he
sinks into the sleep that is fast approaching, is well worth
the twelve hours' previous toil.

I had not been asleep long when I was brought back to
a sense of my awkward position by snowflakes falling on
my face. My faithful umbrella, that usually formed part
of my pillow, saved my head, but snow was slowly piling
on the waterproof sheet over my blankets, and, while I
was speculating on the probable depth that would cover
me by morning, I fell asleep again ; but my slumbers were
disturbed. Fear lest my good umbrella should vanish in
an extra strong gust, prevented sound sleep. Its loss
would have been serious. I held it with one hand
all night, awaking several times — sometimes to see a
twinkling star overhead, sometimes to feel the steadily
falling snow. I had a series of dreams — demons were
rushing away with my helpless self and umbrella, or huge
markhor came peeping over the ledge of rock to look at
me defiantly, and my rifle not at hand ! I was well

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s

o

o

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a;

o
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HARD WORK AGAIN 6i

nightmare-ridden, and was awake, and longing to be up,
a couple of hours before dawn illumined the sky.

As soon as we could see to pick our steps, we made a
start after the nuirkhor. Eeaching the top of the ridge,
we followed it till we found their tracks, and carried these
down steadily for four hours. Going down this ridge was
terrible work — I am sure we did not cover over a mile in
that time. The whole distance was one mass of crumpled
rocks with great gaps between — the rocks were knife-edged,
the slope below was frightful, and ended in sheer precipices.
Mirza Khan led us over this dangerous "round at a good
pace, always some distance ahead, carefully peeping over
the precipices on either side, and searching the hillsides
below with the binoculars. Sharafa looked serious, not
relishing the work at all, for Mirza Khan was a perfect
cragsman, and beat him at it out and out ; so my head
shikari had to play second fiddle throughout.

I gave in after 9 a.m. and sat down, blessing the markhor
with all my heart, and keeping an eye all the time on
Mirza Khan a good distance below, quartering the ground
like the best of trained dogs. At last came his faint
whistle — it galvanized us like the shock from a battery,
and the excitement began. I reached Mirza Khiin in less
than no time, and learned that he had sighted the flock
far down below the precipices. He led on for half a mile,
and then w^e had the markhor below us : they were feeding
at the foot of the cliff on a patch of young grass.

It was impossible to get a shot from this point, so we
went farther along the ridge to take them in flank, though
the range was greater. We came at length to a projecting
rock with a stunted fir-tree by it, which served for cover,
though cover was not necessary, as we were above the
animals this time, and they were so intent on the tender
herbage that there was no danger of detection. I o-ot into

62 MARKHOR SHOOTING

position and picked out the largest pair of horns I could
see ; waited some time till I got a broadside shot, fired
and — missed. Fired the second barrel and missed again !
Then I took the second rifle, and at the third shot broke a
fore leg. Another large mtirkhor now came into view, and
I fired the fourth shot at him — missed again ! Sharafa
handed me the first rifle reloaded, and I fired again at the
wounded one, who was now making off — and missed once
more. The agony of that moment ! The brute was
limping off; he would be round a projection out of sight
in ten paces. Just at the turn he stopped for a second to
look back ; it was my last shot and my last chance.
Desperation steadied me ; I put up the second sight, and
placed the bullet behind the right shoulder ; the markhor
rolled down the slope and was brought up dead. The
range could not have been less than three hundred yards.

Firing downwards at an angle of thirty degrees is very
ticklish work, and many misses must occur unless one is
well practised in this kind of shooting. At the last shot,
the animal, though farther off, was nearly on a level, so it
was an easier shot. Mirza Khan and Ghariba, with knives
drawn, started off at a frightful pace to perform the
haldl (cutting the throat), but they had to go down
round one slope, cross the ravine, and up the opposite hill-
side, and it was at least fifteen minutes before they reached
the victim — too late, for the old buck was dead long before
they arrived. The halal was a failure ; but would not
have been if Sharafa had not been so scrupulous. He
shouted that the animal was dead, and no halal was possible,
but to be careful about cutting well below the throat, etc.
— he was mindful of the " setting up " and its requirements.
Ghariba in a rage shouted back that he would halal.
Sharafa then said the meat would be maknlh (unlawful),
and that was the end of it. I now found out from

DIMENSIONS OF MARKHOR SHOT 63

Sharafa that, in this country, the game is always considered
" halal," provided the hunter, after shooting the animal,
follows him up at once, and does not sit down till he has
cut its throat, though the cutting may be performed hours
after the animal has been hit, or is dead. This convenient
interpretation of the law saves a good deal of meat which
would otherwise be wasted in a difficult country like this.
Musalmans always have some convenient dodge like this
for circumventing the law. Sharafa superintended the
cutting-off of the head, through the telescope. The dimen-
sions taken at camp, whither we now returned, were —
length of horns round curve, 4 7 inches ; girth at base,
111 inches; divergence at tips, 26f inches. I measured
the hoof of one of the fore legs — length, 3| inches ; breadth
at heel, 2| inches. Of my six shots only two took effect ;
the third broke the left fore leg at the knee, the sixth was
through the right shoulder — a splendid shot at three
hundred yards, if not more. This markhor's coat was
quite different from that of the one first shot ; the colour
of the latter resembled the dirty white fleece of a sheep.
The pelage of this one was the same as that described by
Ward in his book, page 17 — a reddish or brownish hue,
mixed with white in front and a darker shade towards the
hind quarters. The hair was not long, except that of the
beard, which waved down splendidly. He looked thin,
and had a tucked-up appearance, due perhaps to old age,
for his teeth were worn nearly to the gums, and the horns
were battered and chipped. When Mirza Khan and
Ghariba appeared with head and skin, they used strong
language to Sharafa for causing so much meat to go waste.
I think he made a mistake by interfering with the
halal.

CHAPTER V

MAEKHOR SHOOTING — {continued)

Begin another hunt— Sharafa kills a snake — Eagles' chase after a snow-cock
— Mdrklior tactics — AVatching game — Hard work and no reward — ilirza
Khan in fault — Lose a splendid chance — Legend of the Major and the
Saint of Ghor — Change our ground — Sight game — Our cautious (and
ridiculous) tactics — Bag the markhor at last — A candid confession — An
undisputed "halal" — Mirza Khan's capacity for meat — Another shoot-
ing-box of Mirza Khan's — Spend a night in a watercourse — A bit of
Kashmir in a rough setting — Inhabited by a microscopic but hugely
vicious fly — Wily markhor — Bad going — Mirza Khan makes a slip —
Long shots — Very dangerous ground— Eain and snow in a tight camp-
ing place — My rocky home— Cross the same dangerous ground again —
Mirza Khan makes another slip — A bad two seconds on the brink of
prospective eternity — Bad weather conquers — Markhor shooting ends.

That uight it snowed and rained heavily, so I took a day
off, and enjoyed the rest. A large markhor was seen from
the camp in the evening, and next morning we went after
it, making a start at five o'clock. After following the
stream along a narrow valley on the right, we came on
tracks of markhor which had just come down the hillside
we intended to ascend, and had gone up stream ; we
sighted them soon after on the ridge. They must have
seen us, for they were alarmed : had we been fifteen
minutes earlier, we should have met them face to face.
Turning up the hillside, we came across numbers of
markhor tracks, quite fresh — no doubt made by the flock
we had just seen. Going on, we disturbed three females

64

SHARAFA KILLS A SNAKE 65

among some rocks : there was great hurry and excitement
getting the rifles out of their cases, but no buck appeared.
We went up higher and higher, and at last crossed the
dividing ridge where the markhor was seen last evening ;
there was no sign. Along the hillside up the valley the
ground was very bad and very slow-going, — precipices and
rocks, — but just the place for the game we were after.
Some more females were in sight and two bucks with very
small horns ; shortly after two more, but not worth
stalking. One of these was lying on a rock just under us,
but out of range ; he was looking down the valley with
a most steady gaze, never dreaming that his greatest
enemy was above him. Sharafa made a slight noise, and
the buck vanished like a phantom, and we never saw him
again. This youngster had a dirty white coat similar to
the buck I shot in the Garai. These animals, like all hill
game, watch downwards and listen upwards, the organs
being admirably placed for the purpose. During the
whole of this dangerous journey we saw nothing more, and
descended to the bottom of the valley over ground worse
than any I had crossed during the day — and that is saying
a good deal. We did not go over much ground, but it
was slow and dangerous work for the latter half of the
day.

N"ext morning we were out again at six, bound for the
ridge where we saw the large miirkhor yesterday — those
that had crossed our path a short time before we came up.
An ascent of three hours to the top gave us a sight of
their tracks, but nothing more. Sharafa killed a large
snake (viperous) among some rocks, catching it by the
back of the neck. He said he was not afraid, as he knew
a mantar (charm) that would protect him even if bitten.
Many natives pay for their belief in a mantar with their
lives, but faith in the potency of charms survives.
5

66 MARKHOR SHOOTING

Two large dark hawks, or eagles, passed a few yards over
my head in full pursuit of a large snow-cock ; they went
at a terrific pace, but the snow-cock had a good start, and
I think sot under shelter on the next rids^e before his
pursuers could catch him : it was a grand sight, though it
lasted only for a few seconds. The weather was very
muggy and hazy since the rain and snow. We could not
see any distance distinctly. Sharafa, who had gone farther
up, came back to report seven large markhor in a small
valley to the left, but they soon fled out of sight round a
rock, and Mirza Khan said there was absolutely no way
by which we could follow them. About two o'clock we
sighted the same lot of markhor on the hillside right
across the valley, and shortly after another flock of three
smaller animals some distance lower down. It was most
provoking. Yesterday we were on that side of the valley
on the very ground these animals now occupied, and
sighted the markhor on this side. To-day, after toiling
up to this ridge, we saw the bucks on the very ground we
went over yesterday. There was no way of getting near
them, so we lay down comfortably under the shade of
pines, and studied them till it was time to go down.

This watching of the game and noting their habits is, I
think, only less pleasant than the actual stalk and the
successful shot at the end of it. The seven males were
immense brutes, every one with splendid horns and long
shaggy beard and coat that seemed, through the telescope,
to sweep the ground as they grazed about. These old
gentlemen, like humans who have passed the meridian of
life, found their only pleasure at the table, and were very
intent on their dinner, never for a moment ceasing to feed
till it was time to retire : they then grazed their way
slowly up, towards some rocks, where doubtless they
passed the night. Two of the other lot were more lively ;

HARD WORK 67

after a few mouthfuls of grass they would turn to and
have a friendly trial of strength, butting each other, locking
and unlocking their horns, retiring, then standing on their
hind legs and clashing their horns with a report that could
be distinctly heard. These games went on till one gave
in and turned, when the victor would give the vanquished
a parting butt in the rump and turn to grazing again.
This performance was enacted several times.

We had intended sleeping in our old resting-place
under the rock higher up, but Mirza Khan changed his
tactics after sighting the markhor in the other valley, and
brought us down to the main stream. We slept under
the trees where we had camped the first day when we
were coming up from the village.

The weather was very cloudy and rainy when we
started at five o'clock, and the wind could not be trusted.
After waiting for an hour the sun came out, and we
went along the ridge to get above the spot where the
markhor had been seen. Mirza Khan worked hard, never
leaving a rock unsearched, though he risked his neck more
than once to do it. We saw no sign of the beasts,
however, and at last gave up the search, disappointed and
disgusted. We were returning exactly the way we had
gone up three days before, when the usual contretemps
occurred. It was about five o'clock, and we were all coins
carelessly, and looking anxiously to the spot at the bottom
of the valley where the coolies should be with the bedding,
etc., when Mirza Khan, who was leading, topped a swell on
the hillside, and came bang on to the seven large markhor
we had been hunting for all day ! They were not more
than seventy yards off. The animals rushed down the slope,
and by the time a rifle could be got out of the case, where
they had been put as it was wet, they were on the opposite
hillside, six hundred yards distant at least : they actually

68 MARKHOR SHOOTING

ran over the camp by the stream where the coolies were
lying down ! After glaring at each other for some time,
we descended to camp, and the markhor ascended to theirs.
Language could not do justice to the occasion, and I
recognised it, but I was so wild that I lost my appetite !
A few minutes before, my imagination had been revelling
in the pleasant prospect of dinner — tinned beef and
chapati though it was. When I reached camp, the very
thought of food made me sick, and I went to bed at once,
without a mouthful of any kind. Mirza Khan was na
doubt most to blame ; but he looked so miserable that I
had not the heart to say a word to him. He threw
himself on his face, and remained motionless as long as I
could see him. I believe he, too, went to bed without any
dinner.

The weather next day was horrible, and very unusual
for these parts at this season. It rained till one o'clock,,
when we went up the main stream to have a look at the
ground, and saw five young markhor and several females :
farther on there were three large rams, but we did
nothing.

We went after those three large markhor next morning,,
and reached the spot at nine o'clock. There was no trace
of them excepting a few hoof-marks, but there were small
markhor in sight in three different places. They were so
placed round us that we could not move an inch without
being sighted by one or other of the flocks. It did not
matter much so far as the small bucks were concerned, but
if these were alarmed and bolted, the large ones would
surely take the hint and bolt too. Patience and sleep
were the only alternatives, and eventually we returned
without seeing the game we were after, though we lay
most of the day on the very ridge where they had been
twelve hours before.

THE SAINT OF GHOR 69

Mirza Khan told me that a few years ago the " Major
Sahib " who was engaged in the survey of this valley,
wished to map the country on the Ghor village side, but
the Ghor people objected. The Major Sahib insisted.
The Ghorians, however, were strong in possession of a
powerful fakir, who could command the elements, and that
very night, while the party were encamped here by the
stream, he sent a tremendous flood, which rushed down
the valley with an awful roaring. Most of the Major's
followers were swept away, and he himself only escaped
by rushing up the hillside with a lantern in his hand.
What a sight it must have been — the Major in his
pajamas, bolting up-hill with a lantern in the dead of
night ! The Wazi'r and his men lost all their traps while
saving the Sahib's. The latter, however, got his way after
all, for I have the map he made.

Just as the story was finished, there was a brilliant
flash of lightning overhead, followed by three deafening
thunderclaps. Their suddenness, close overhead, after
Mirza Khan's story, was very startling, and had a telling
effect on the men. The thought in everybody's mind
must have been — " The Ghor fakir again angry at another
Sahib's intrusion ! " And he was no common magician,
content with flash and sound only ; the thunder was
followed by a heavy hailstorm. It ceased when we were
within a mile of camp, and could not have lasted more
than twenty minutes. This was the first time since my
arrival in the valley that I had seen lightning or heard
thunder ; it is not the season for them — more credit to
the holy man !

The postman turned up on the evening of the 24th
May. How I had longed for his appearance ! He had
taken more than twenty days to go to Srinagar and return,
when he should have done it in fifteen. He was a snuff-

70 MARKHOR SHOOTING

taking old scoundrel, and too old for quick travelling : 1
made a mistake in taking him on. I wrote letters till
noon, and, having despatched the postman on his return
journey, took bedding and food and went down the main
stream to the field, a mile or so above Damot village, and
camped under a solitary tree. This was quite fresh ground,
and Mirza Khan was confident of showing sport.

He said large markhor were always seen on the last spurs
of the range, between the main stream and the Indus, but
higher up the hill we sighted a flock on the farthest ridge
overhandno' the river, and went after them at once,
ascending and descending very cautiously about half a
dozen intervening ridges and deep ravines. When the
animals were first sighted they were coming down,
apparently towards us, so that, after the third or fourth
ravine had been crossed, we moved along with greater
caution, expecting to meet them face to face as we topped
each ridge. After creeping slowly to the top, and making
careful survey of the ground below us, we rushed down the
next slope at best pace, and repeated our tactics on the
next hillside, and so on till we came to the last ravine,
just above which we had sighted the flock. All our
trouble was wasted, however, for when we arrived within
a short distance of the spot where the markhor had been
last seen, we saw by their tracks that they had gone along
grazing up the ravine, out of our view all the time, and
had crossed over to the slope running down to the Indus.

Feeling rather done, I sat down while Mirza Khan
followed up the track, step by step, to the top. I watched
him creeping along ledges of rock, and holding on like
grim death, and thanked my stars I was not with him !
But fifteen minutes later I was working my way along the
very same ledges, regardless of anything but the fact that
the markhor were just below the ridge in front of me and

BAG THE MARKHOR AT LAST 71

withiu range. Mirza Ivhiiu signalled the news after a
careful peep over the hilltop. It was about ten o'clock,
and the sun was very hot, and the markhor were restino-
within a semicircular rocky enclosure, and were apparently
looking down intently right into the Biinji fort, across the
river, not a mile off. I was splendidly placed for a shot,
but only one male markhor was visible, lying in a corner on a
ledge of rocks that protected him from the sun. He was
so snugly placed that I could not make him out for some
time, though he was not over a hundred and thirty yards
off. The largest male, which we had noted when we first
sighted the flock, was not to be seen. After a careful and
unsuccessful search for him, I determined to loose off at
the one before me, so rested the rifle on a rock and took
careful aim — result only a broken fore leg. Nothing better
could be expected when the animal was lying down. He
looked up stupefied, and my next missed him clean ; the
third broke a hind leg. These shots disturbed the big one,
and he rushed down the rocks towards the river at a
frightful pace. After going down about two hundred
yards, he stood for a moment on a projecting rock, and I
had a snap-shot at him and missed. I had put up the
second sight, and the bullet went over him. The wounded
one was still standing on the ledge where he had been
sleeping : he seemed paralysed, and kept shaking his
wounded legs, as if endeavouring to get rid of something
that was holding him down. My fifth shot was a miss
too, but it moved the markhor ; he came hobbling down
the rocks and stood in the sunshine on a smooth sloping
slab of rock, looking quite bewildered, and not ninety yards
away. He gave me a good broadside, and I put the sixth
bullet through his shoulder. He rolled down the sloping
rock for fifty yards, his horns rattling and banging in a
way that made me tremble for them, but happily they

72 MARKHOR SHOOTING

escaped with only two or three bad gaps along the edges
of the curve, and the tips somewhat damaged. So many
misses disgusted me, and I looked on my two Henrys with
anything but affection ; but they were not in fault. In
this instance I made the mistake of keeping the muzzles
of the rifles in the shade of a bush to keep the foresight
from catching the sun, but in the endeavour to efifect this
my position became awkward, and I could not place the
foresight true on the animal's shoulder — hence the misses.
I perceived my mistake at the fifth shot, and fired my
last with the sight in the sun, and the bullet struck within
three inches of the point aimed at. The horns were
352 inches long, 12 inches round base, 26 inches between
tips. These horns quite met at the base behind, then
curved out gracefully ; they are massive, but the tips were
ruined by the fall down the rocks. Mirza Khan, after
examining the teeth, said the buck was six years old —
half the age of the 47-incher ; but the horns of the younger
animal are much thicker. Mirza Khan and Jamala went
down and did the haldl, Sharafa making no objection
this time, though the animal was of course dead before its
throat was cut. The meat was stowed away in a hole
and carefully covered with rocks, Mirza Khan saying he
would send his brother up for it next day, we bringing
away only the head and skin, as I thought, but Mirza
Khan, it turned out, had the heart, liver, and saddle
carefully packed up in the skin. He had great capacity
for meat, and could eat any quantity without accompani-
ments, even without salt. On the way down we came to
the bottom of a narrow valley, with a small spring of
water oozing from beneath a rock. This was another
shooting-box of Mirza Khan's. Water is scarce in these
barren stony hills, and the markhor came to this spring
to drink. Just above the rock Mirza Kh;in showed me a

A FEROCIOUS FLY 73

small cave, nicely floored with grass, where he sat and
potted the markhor ; the spring was just below, so the
game approached within ten yards of his gun muzzle.
It is not surprising that the markhor disappear so fast
when such murderous practices are followed.

The next was a blank day ; we moved again, and
camped in a small patch under a splendid pine, just
opposite the rock where I had spent such an uncomfort-
able night before I got the 47 -inch markhor. This
was the pleasantest camp I had in the valley, and my
happiness would have been complete but for the attacks
of a ferocious little fly. It was hardly big enough to see,
but wherever it stung it left a minute blood-spot that
itched dreadfully.

Next morning saw us making our way straight up from
camp for the ridge above — a stiff ascent of two hours —
where we had to remain an hour till the sun fell on the
other slope. This delay is always disagreeable, as it is
generally cold and windy, and there is seldom any
protection. One dare not move down the other side as
the wind is blowing downwards, and every head of game,
down to the bottom of the valley, would scent you before
you had gone a hundred yards. When the sun has
warmed the hillside, the current is changed, and the winds
blow upwards. You are then safe, and may walk up to
a bear, and pull him by the ear before blowing his brains
out. If the day is cloudy, however, you may as well give
up stalking — the wind is everywhere. The shikari con-
stantly halts, pulls some fluff from his woollen coat, and
floats it away on the wind, watching the tiny speck
anxiously. Then call patience to your aid, and wait, sit, sleep,
do anything but move about. A cloudy day in the hunting
grounds of Kashmir must give the recording angel above
a busy time of it. At nine o'clock we descended the next

74 MARKHOR SHOOTING

slope, and saw two markhor feeding on the hillside, near
some birches, about six hundred yards off. Had we
crossed earlier, we should never have seen these animals,
as they would have got our wind at once. We made for
them very cautiously, as they were in low jungle, and we
were not aware of their exact whereabouts. Cautious as
Mirza Khan and Sharafa were, they, or rather the first,
made a mess of the stalk ; it could hardly have been
otherwise in such bad ground. As we crossed the top of
a swell, covered with bushes, there was a crash below as
of a large animal rushing through jungle. We rushed
down five paces in the direction of the noise, and came
upon the fresh tracks of a large markhor. Following
them, Mirza Khan again sighted the animals in an open
space on the opposite side of a narrow valley, and down
we went again. The slope was steep, the rocks were loose
slates that answered with a metallic tinkle every time I put
my foot down. Where there was no rock the ground was
slippery from recently melted snow, and I had more than
one agonising slip ; but Mirza Khan crowned the record of
accidents when, we having arrived within twenty yards of
the animals, who were still out of sight, he slipped and rolled
down the slope. The rifle which he was carrying nearly
came to grief ; it was plastered with mud, and showed
some bad scratches on the barrels. Of course the markhor
were off, and I gave up following them after this. They
were again sighted, but were much lower down, and going
at a good pace. They did not seem to be very large ones
after all — sour grapes !

We put up for the night in a goat-shed, and at five
o'clock next morning went up the nala above the hut,
and had a cold time of it in the sun and wind for an hour.
A young markhor which came on the ridge in front of us,
and about three hundred yards above, was all the game we

AN EARLY START 75

saw that day, and I did not get a shot at him. Next day
we went up Salat stream, and camped on its bank, about
two miles from the tent. Mirza Khan said this was his
pet nala, and that he would show me some real old bucks
very shortly.

We were on the move very early in the morning, and,
crossing the stream to the right bank, went up a very
steep and narrow gorge. It took us three hours to get to
the top of the ridge. When we were more than half-way
up, I saw a markhor on the sky-line ; he had seen us long
before, and disappeared behind the ridge, after rolling down
some stones, from which the coolies had a narrow escape.
Leaving the men behind, in a depression, we crossed over
and came to patches of snow on a hillside, with broken
rocks scattered about a very bad bit of ground. Then an
awkward scramble through a dense patch of young birches.
We breakfasted at a snow stream, and then toiled on to
the next ridge. Here we saw the markhor again ;
he was lying in the shade of a birch-tree on the ridge we
had just crossed, but lower down ; he gave the alarm, and
disappeared on the other side whence we had come.
Disgusting ! We had been looking for him all this time,
and he had been lying comfortably at the foot of a tree
not a dozen yards from the place where we had last seen
him while toiling up the gorge. I put up for the day
under a rock overlooking a bit of dense pine forest, while
the two shikaris went lower down to look for game. I
had a nap, and then took out a Civil and Military Gazette,
more than a month old, and read it word for word nearly
to the end. I was just getting through a report on
cholera, by a Dr. Eichards, and was wondering what
" alvine choleraic discharges " meant, when a pebble fell
on the paper. Looking up, I could just see Sharafa
peeping over the rock above me. I crept round with all

76 MARKHOR SHOOTING

caution, to hear that there were three markhor just in
front of the rock where I had been sitting, not two
hundred yards off, but invisible from that point on account
of the trees. I went lower down with the men and watched
these markhor for more than an hour, for they were in a
bad place, and we could not get closer as the ground was
covered with dry birch leaves which crackled loudly under
foot. After a time the markhor moved, and we had to do
so too. We went as far as we could, but the beasts were
still more than three hundred yards off, and were feeding
up, while we had come down, under the impression that
they would feed down, as their custom is. The sun was
blazing straight in my face, while the markhor were in the
shadow of the opposite spur, so I decided to fire before
they grazed out of sight. I had eight shots, all at over
three hundred yards, and missed every time ! I simply
could not see the foresight through the blinding glare of
the level sun, and the shots went high. I saw only two
of the markhor — one a venerable old fellow with flowing
beard and shaggy sides, whom I ought to have nailed at
the first shot.

We had a troublesome march next day when we moved.
The uround was so difficult and dangerous that we did not
make more than a mile in two hours. We had to cross a
ravine with perpendicular rocky sides, fifty feet deep at
least ; we had to scramble down rocks on one side and
climb up a straight wall on the other. A fall, perhaps, would
not have hurt anyone much, as the bottom was full of snow ;
but the risk lay in the certainty that if one did fall on the
snow, he was likely to roll down the very steep ravine for about
twenty yards to the edge of a sheer precipice of — heaven
knows how deep. It came on to snow and rain after
mid-day with a very cold and cutting wind. There were fresh
markhor tracks all over the place, but the weather shut us

MY ROCKY HOME 77

up, and we moved down to the bottom of tlie next valley
and camped under a rock. The rain and snow continued
till dark, but I was snugly placed under a huge rock that
kept the rain and snow off my bedding ; after a time the
water did begin to trickle and drip. We remedied this
by an elaborate arrangement of waterproof sheet, which
carried off the rain and dropped it just beyond my bedding.
This device having been completed with much care and
pains, the rain and snow naturally ceased.

The morning; brought rain and snow aoain, so I sent
coolies down for more food and the small khaki tent, as I
intended remaining where I was for several days.

For want of anything better to do, I examined my
journal, and discovered I was two days behind time,
making the 3rd June the 1st ; a mistake that might have
consequences when on privilege leave. When the snow or
rain ceased, it became foggy, which was just as bad. The
coolies brought up the tent in the evening, but we could
find no ground level enough to pitch it, though an eight
feet square would suffice. I was obliged, therefore, to
spread it on the rock, and to secure it with a couple of
ropes tied to a pine close by. This afforded more dry
space, but no extra room, as the slope was very abrupt.
I made a roaring fire of birch logs under the pine, a few
feet from my rock, and toasted myself. I had to stand
(there was no sitting room), and, as the wind never blew
from one point for more than two minutes together, I was
constantly moving to escape the smoke from the wet birch
logs, which was most pungent and trying to the eyes.
My revolutions round the fire soon became tiresome, and
I was driven to the rock again. In this manner I passed
the day. My companions were much worse off: Sharafa
stowed himself away between two large rocks, roofed in
with sheets of birch bark ; Ghariba and Mirza Khtin were

78 MARKHOR SHOOTING

crouched in a hole under a small rock, a few paces off, just
big enough to hold them, curled up like a dog when he is
very cold. The space into which these people can screw
themselves and remain, asleep and awake, for hours,
without change of position, is truly wonderful ! The
coolies managed the best way they could, mostl}'" covered
with their blankets round a huge log fire, as there were
no more rocks to protect them.

The weather next day was as bad, but after breakfast I
could hold out no longer, so made the shikaris come along
the ridge towards the main stream ; we saw nothing, as
usual. The rain and snow, I fancy, had driven even the
markhor under cover, for the place we searched was the
one where the nine large bucks had been seen from the
opposite side of the main valley a few days before : we
saw their tracks all over the place, and huge ones they
were. I sat on the top of a conical hill under my
umbrella for a couple of hours, while the shikaris hunted
above and below, and then, convinced that the rock and
roaring fire were more comfortable, returned to camp. It
drizzled, snowed, hailed, sleeted, and rained alternately, but
not for long at a time. This variety was no doubt
interesting from a meteorological point of view, but not
from mine. It cleared up at night, but clouds still hung
about.

A comparatively clear morning was welcomed, and we
started at five for the ridge where I had missed the
markhor eight times. We all agreed it was best to make
the ground good in that direction, as during this bad
weather the markhor might have gone round there again.
We had a very bad time, both going and coming, and saw
nothing for our pains, though we did find the footmarks of
some brutes that had actually walked over our tracks only
a couple of days old ! Going, we went along the hillside

MIRZA KHAN MAKES ANOTHER SLIP 79

to avoid the ravine we had crossed before, and thus got
into the snow and among huge rocks. We walked through
this with frozen feet and aching fingers ; then came to a
steep hillside, one sheet of snow, down which we had to
slide sitting. For punishment let me recommend this
mode of progression when the snow just conceals numerous
points of rock. Coming back, we shirked the ascent
through the snow, and concluded to take our chance over
the dangerous ravine. We had a bad five seconds crossing
it. Sharafa, having better nerve on snow than Mirza Khan,
went first ; then the latter crossed, but, being too proud to
use the foot-holes made by Sharafa, tried it a little higher
up, while I followed Sharafa's track. About half-way
across, Mirza Khan being a few feet above me, his feet
slipped, and, as he felt himself losing his balance and
coming down on me, he uttered a despairing groan,
thinking he was slipping into eternity over the precipice a
few yards below, and taking me with him. But Sharafa
was watching us from the edge of the snow, and, coming
back a few paces on his old track, held Mirza Khtin up
till I had passed. Had Mirza Khan slipped a couple of
feet more, he must have had me down, and we should
both have swished over the precipice in a second. There
was absolutely nothing to stop us, if once started. Mirza
Khan looked very yellow after, and it was very evident
that his nerves had been shaken. It rained off and on
during the whole day. The wretched weather played the
mischief with my shooting in this direction. I had no
more time to spare for the markhor, as I intended to
devote some days to the ibex, and secure a couple of good
heads before I left. The large fires we made and the
smoke from them must have had something to do with the
disappearance of the markhor from these hillsides, for
though we came across innumerable tracks, a few days

8o MARKHOR SHOOTING

old only, every time we went out, we never saw a single
animal.

After a last and despairing search for the nine large
males next day, during which we never saw a horn, I gave
up the markhor for good, and tried for ibex higher up the
range for the first time. We soon sighted a large flock of
females, but no bucks, so crossed down to a pleasant grassy
hillside and fixed camp in a green hollow commanding
grand snow views on all sides. I was out of sorts,
probably from my enforced idleness vmder the rock on the
other side. So the little khaki tent was put up, and I
occupied it for the first time. It was very snug and
comfortable, just the thing for this kind of work. How
enjoyable it was to lie level, and be able to stretch out
one's legs after so many nights cramped under the rock.

CHAPTER VI

IBEX SHOOTING

Gluttony of my talile-servant— Searcli for iliex— Grand view from a peak—
A successful stalk— And curious shot— Mirza Khan is delighted— The
Wazir is anxious for my safety— Suspect a conspiracy to frighten me—
My servant's condition— Yearning for cooked food— Another unsuccess-
ful hunt— A noisy camp— A conllagration in a tight place— Arrange for a
hunt near the crest of the range— Try my hand at ibex -curry— Filthy
Kashmiri habits— Limited quarters in a goat-shed— Bad weather heats
us again— Leave the ground— Mark down three huge bucks— The stalk
—Awkward position for a shot— My trophy can be patched up— Hill-
crows are pleased— Very familiar and intelligent birds— Their manners
and customs— A letter from the Bunji commandant— My supplies are
stopped— Ibex shooting comes to au end— Square accounts with Mirza
Khan and company.

Theue was a storm of snow and wind during the night
(Gth June), but the four-feet high tent withstood it
gallantly. The shikaris and coolies had a bad time of it,
as they had no shelter, and were obliged to crouch round
a huge fire, for it was very cold. I heard that the
khidmatgar, down at the tent on the main stream, was
very ill ; large blisters had broken out on his stomach, he
had pains in his loins, and his body was swollen. The
men said he had been gorging himself with mulberries and
a whole leg of miirkhor, sleeping day and night, and not
moving an inch from camp all the time ! He had had
absolutely no work, and this was the consequence. I sent
Ghariba down with five rupees to carry him to the village,
6

82 IBEX SHOOTING

where he could be treated by the local doctor, as I heard
there was one there. I started from camp early and went
a long distance over the grassy, undulating slopes, just
below the top of the ridge, looking for ibex, and saw a
couple of small ones, but let them go. At about ten o'clock,
when the sun was getting hot, Mirza Khan sighted a flock
of large males in a stony ravine, a great distance ahead of
us. They had evidently just finished breakfast, and were
now making for the rocks above to enjoy their mid-day
sleep. We watched them until they walked out of sight,
and then followed them up, sighting them again from the
ridge they had last crossed. They were on the opposite
side of the ravine, about three hundred yards oft", some
lying down, some grazing, and a few going up the slope.
They had evidently not yet found a comfortable place for
their rest. Examining them through the telescope, I saw
there were two large fellows with horns between forty and
fifty inches ; the rest were a little over thirty. The biggest
was also the laziest, and he was lying lowest on the hill-
side. When all had crossed over the ridge, the old fellow
got up and followed them. Though they were all out of
sight, there was no following them straight across the
ravine, as three females had appeared some distance above
the point where the males had crossed, and were keeping
a very sharp look-out in all directions but above. They
had chosen their position so well that we should have been
discovered instantly if we had put even our heads above
the rocks behind which we were concealed. They could
not have been more than eight hundred yards away. It
was provoking : it obliged us to go back, get a ridge
between ourselves and the sharp-eyed females, and then
climb straight up to the dividing ridge, turn the flank of
the females, go round and below the ridge out of their
sight, and then come down again to the place where the

"HE SIGNED TO ME TO LOOK OVER."

SEARCH FOR IBEX 83

bucks had last been seen — a formidable task. I fortified
myself with breakfast liefore attempting it, as did the
shikaris, and we began the toilsome ascent about eleven,
the sun blazing on oar backs as we went up. It took me
an hour to reach the top, and I was thoroughly done when
I crot there. After a rest we crossed over to the northern
slope, and found ourselves on a vast sheet of snow, which
the sun had softened to such a degree that we sank above
the knees at every step. This was very slow and tiresome
work, and we had to do over half a mile of it before we
dared to put our noses across the ridge. Coming up I had
been almost melted by the sun ; on this side I was nearly
frozen by the snow, and my feet were quite benumbed !
We had another rest after crossing the snow, and, getting
under cover on the other side of the range, descended with
all the caution inspired by ignorance of the exact locality
of the bucks, and dread of the watchful females. No ibex-
were visible, though we were nearly on a level with the spot
where they had last been seen. We were certain that
they could not be more than one hundred and fifty yards
from us, but whether to our right or left, or below, was
the question. The suspense, the extreme caution, and the
very careful and slow pace we were forced to adopt
affected my nerves, and I knew I should make a bad shot
when we sighted the game, if I had not had time to
recover myself. Sharafa and I halted, and Mirza Khan
went on alone to locate the ibex, which he did in about
ten minutes. Coming up to the rock behind which he stood,
he signed to me to look over, and there were the seven
bucks, lying in all attitudes, perfectly at home, on a small
patch of sloping grass about a hundred yards off across a
small ravine — my first chance at ibex ! How careful I
was to rest the rifle and take deliberate aim, and how
clean I missed the largest-horned buck in the flock, and

84 IBEX SHOOTING

the next, and the next ! Life was not worth living for the
lialf-hour after this disaster. I had aimed at the hirgest-
horned one while he was lying down — a very great mistake
indeed. I was still bilious and out of sorts, and the ascent
in the blazing sun had not improved my nerves. The
shibiris looked disgusted, and I am sure I went down
several degrees in INIirza KIkiu's estimation. After a rest,
we came down to the stream at the bottom of the valley,
and then along the next hillside down to camp on
the stream.

At six o'clock next morning we started to go straight
up the stream, then turned up to the left on the spur
dividing the two streams of the valley, and passed the
hillside where I made such bad shooting the day before.
We saw only one small ibex high up near the head of the
valley, and let him alone, to go up the hillside on the left
of the larger stream for a long distance, then round the
head of the stream on snow for more than a mile, to a
stony ridge where we had seen some ibex yesterday
evening as we were returning, but found only their tracks.
We ascended to the very top, a rocky hill-point on the
dividing ridge of this valley, and had a glorious view all
round. Mirza Khan only was with me, as Sliarafa had
become ill, and was lying down on the rocks below.
ISTanga Parbat was to the south, its massy proportions
looking right royal among the low peaks and ranges
around. On the north and north-west, facing Nanga
Parbat, but fifty miles apart, were the snowy peaks of
Pakhi Poshi, Dobanni, and Haramosh, inferior only to the
mighty mass on the south from this point. These three
peaks seemed to be on one range, and almost in a straight
line. Behind them, far away, could be dimly seen another
snowy range, like a massive white wall. Below, on this
side, were the districts of Hunza and Nagar, on the other

A SUCCESSFUL STALK 85

— space. At our feet was a wide open valley, a level
plain apparently for a long way down, the head of the
Jagot valley, very stony, barren, and desolate. I was now
standinij on the extreme frontier of the British Indian
Empire. Chilas and Darel were Lelow the next ridge on
my left. The Chilasis bring their cattle to graze on the
slopes below in summer, a little later on. It was rather
lucky that they were not here during my shooting
excursion.

Descending from the rocky hilltop, we had breakfast,
and followed the ibex tracks down again. It must have
been the very Hock I missed yesterday. We ascended the
low central ridge, and carefully searched the opposite hill-
side, but saw nothing. On the top of a spur we came
upon the fresh tracks of a bear, which must have come
down the same way that we had gone up. We followed
his tracks for a while, then gave him up, as he was
evidently travelling fast. After crossing some dense scrub
[ind bad rocky places, Mirza Khan sighted a buck coming
in riur direction, and then another a little distance from
the first, so we went higher up tlie hillside to get above
the game, and tlien began the stalk. Crossing a slatey
ledge, the rock under my feet gave way, and the slates
went down with a terrible rattle that, I imagined, must be
heard a mile off. I held on and found footing again.

The ibex were not alarmed, for, as I have said, noises of
this kind do not frighten hill game. We lost sight of them
for some time, but did see one at last, and managed to get
witliin one hundred and fifty yards of him. He was on
the slope above wliifh we had just come, and was evidently
going to the rocky places we had just crossed for his
night's lodging. He was in no I'urry ; he halted every
ten paces and grazed about, sometimes looking right and
left, evidently for his companion, who was not visible.

86 IBEX SHOOTING

I took careful aim as he stood showing his left tlank, and
made a capital shot, which to some extent atoned for my
blundering yesterday. Mirza Khan shouted for joy when
he saw the animal roll down. The ibex stood looking
down the valley. When the bullet hit him, he rushed
up hill with tremendous bounds for about forty yards,
then fell and rolled down again. The Ijullet struck him
in the centre of the chest, so he must have turned in my
direction just as I pressed the trigger. The buck was of
enormous size, but young, for his horns were only 32 f
inches. He was soon skinned, and we set out for camp
as fast as we could go, for it was rapidly getting dark.

The next was an off-day. Sharafa had been suffering
from severe headache, etc., for the last two days, something
like myself. Manawar Khan, the sipahi (my commissariat
ofticer), brought a message from Wazir Biighdor Shah, to
the effect that I should return to the village, as there was
a disturbance across the border among the Yaghistanis
(rebels), and they might come across and loot my camp.
This inconsequent reasoning did not impress me much.
The khidmatgar was still very ill, but was able to move
about, and could eat a little. This man's illness I
suspected to be another plot. I had no doubt that all my
party above and below were getting very tired of the rough
life, and they had conspired to frighten me down to the
village with these stories. I found that my servant liad eaten
a whole leg of the last markhor which had been given him
for my use — the glutton ! I never tasted a bit. Every-
one said he was an enormous eater, though he had but a
small body. He said he had pains all round his body, he
was dying, and he was always crying ; but his harrowing
tales had no effect on my obdurate heart, for I was de-
termined to have my ibex hunt. I began to suspect even
Sharafa ; his pains and aches, too, seemed to be assumed.

YEARNING FOR COOKED FOOD 87

The coolies brought in the remaining portion of the ibex,
which had been safely stowed away by Mirza Khan for
the nio;ht, and I now bet^an to feel the want of a cook.
My chef had become quite useless as a cooking animal
ever since I had taken to lodging out under the rocks in
these upper regions, and all this time I had been living on
chapiitis, tinned beef, and jam. My interior craved some-
thing cooked and warm. My sleep was disturbed by
visions of splendid dinners, that were only an exasperating
memory when I awoke. I tried my 'prentice hand at ibex
chops, cooked in the cover of the only pot I had with me,
but my success fell very short of my hopes. I forgot to
record in the proper place my first experience of "black
dal " (pulse). It was an agreeable surprise ; very palatable
when boiled long enough, that is, for five or six hours, and
eaten scalding hot, after the shades of evening fell and
darkness softened the colour of the mess. One must be
thoroughly famished to appreciate it ; but there is no
doubt of the nourishing qualities of the black and
glutinous mess, whicli is the standing dish of India's
dusky millions.

While climbing the hillside opposite our camp next
morning early, Jamala, the breakfast-carrier, saw an ibex
across the valley, going up hill. I had four shots at him,
at very long ranges, and missed. He was a small buck,
and had evidently crossed over from our side a little ahead
of us. The hill was so steep and slippery from the pine-
needles which lay thickly on the ground, that I had not
even firm foothold ground when I fired. The last spur
dividing the Boin and Hasharai streams are splendid
places for markhor below and for ibex above. I saw five
small bucks of the latter, and had a long and tiresome
stalk, but they disappeared by the time we neared the
spot where they had been marked down.

38 IBEX SHOOTING

We camped that night on the banks of the Hasharai
stream, below a hirge and gloomy cave, the entrance of
which was blocked by dense undergrowth. The small
kh;iki tent was pitched under some grand pine-trees, not
two yards from the brink of the stream, tlie deafening roar
of which, echoing in the cave above, rendered hearing
impossible, and required business to be carried on by signs.
The coolies made a fire close to the tent against a fallen pine-
tree ; naturally, there was a conflagration in ten minutes,
and the whole camp in danger of being roasted alive on
one hand, or drowned and dashed to pieces in the raging
torrent on the other. We had a battle-royal in subduing
the fire with green branches and water, and I did without
my log-fire.

We started at 5.15 next morning, and went up the
Hasharai. After going a mile and crossing a goat-bridge
over the stream, I sent back a coolie with some spare
things, tent, bedding, etc., to lighten the loads and save
the commissariat ; the more coolies one has, the greater
the quantity of flour it is necessary to carry. Carriage and
commissariat are the two difficulties in all expeditious,
great or small. Following the stream along an easy goat-
path from the bridge, I reached the grazing grounds of
the Ghor people ; they would be here in ten days or less —
so Mirza Khan said. The village of Ghor is on the other
side of this range, a short distance from the water-parting
above me. The Ghor people are beyond the border, and
are rather turbulent, which was the reason why the Wazi'r
was so anxious for me to leave this part. The Ghorians
had no right to feed their flocks on this side, as the
country up to the crest belongs to Damot ; but they are the
stronger party, and the people of Damot must keep on good
terms with them. Ghor is, moreover, a convenient asylum
for refugees from Kashmiri oppression, and a good many

TRY MY HAND AT IBEX CURRY 89

people from Dam(')t and tlic surrounding villages have
found refuge there. After breakfast we cooked two days'
food, in order to make a dash for the head waters of the
main stream. The Hasharai, I was told, was a good place
for ibex, but the country is very open and undulating, and
no fires could be made, as the head of the valley is a good
distance beyond the limit of forest, and wood is not
procurable.

We camped at the last birch-trees. With the help of
Jafar Bata, I was very successful in making a curry of
il)ex, seasoned with wild rhubarb. I must confess that the
chief credit rested with Jafar. One or two suggestions of
mine were evidently so wild that he ignored them, hardly
able to conceal his contempt. After this snub from a
coolie, I subsided into the position of his assistant, fetching
the water, peeling the rhubarb, etc. Jafar had become
invaluable since my regular chef's collapse, or rather infla-
tion, for I heard he was " swelling visibly " every day.
In the first days of my travels, Jafar came to the front
by sheer force of character, and was promoted from coolie
to water-carrier ; he made himself useful in the cooking-
tent, and soon ruled the limp pseudo-Persian gentleman
who presided there. When I cut loose from my regular
camp, Jafar again received promotion, being appointed
general factotum in my rough shikiiri life — cook, water-
carrier, and body -servant all in one. But I never
discovered what a jewel he was in his first role until I
tried to show him how to make a curry. I disdained his
assistance when I essayed the chops ; but Jafar, having one
attrilnite, at least, of genius, — sublime patience, — bided his
time, and to-day he became master of the situation — and
of his master. Only one drawback marred his utility — he
was very dirty in his habits and clothes ; it is the promi-
nent characteristic of his countrymen. Twenty years of

90 IBEX SHOOTING

rough life in India and the Himalayas had somewhat
blunted my senses, but I drew the line at Kashmiri dirt,
and I refrained from asking Jafar to display his culinary
skill beyond cooking four chapatis every evening. How-
ever, nature could not be denied : warm food had become
absolutely necessary, and I compromised by closely
watching the operations of the accomplished chef, and
made him conform to my ideas of cleanliness as closely
as adverse circumstances allowed.

Our arrangements were completed in two hours, and,
leaving the four coolies here, the two shikaris, myself,
Jafar Bata the indispensable, and Jamala (five in all),
proceeded up the Hasharai as far as the watershed, to
explore the country and hunt ibex. It would take us two
or three days, and I hoped to have rare sport, as the upper
portion of this valley had never yet been visited by any
sportsman — in fact, it was rarely visited by anyone. The
Damot people used to bring their sheep and goats here a
few years before, but since their numbers had diminished
they had abandoned these grazing grounds to the Ghorians,
who seldom came so far. Mirza Khan said no sheep had
been grazed here for three years at least.

At noon we set out along the stream, now a mere
thread of water, which we followed for about two miles ;
the ground was gently undulating and clothed in tender
young grass. The valley opened out considerably and the
hillsides sloped gently down, denoting that the summit of
the range was not far distant. I could see right round
for about three-quarters of a circle : the sky-line bounding
the valley is almost level all round, excepting at its head,
where a steep wall of bare slatey rock rises against the
sky. It began to rain and sleet as we neared our camping
place, an old goat-shed very much in want of repair, and
there was a heavy snowstorm during the close of the day.

QtJARTERS IN A GOAT-SHED 91

The goat-shed was very uncomfortable ; raiu and snow
came in through the roof, and the smoke from the damp
wood fire nearly blinded )ne. The cold was so intense
that we were driven to make a fire with wood pulled out
from the goat-shed ; but as it was made on the floor and a
snowstorm was raging outside, it could not disturb the
game. I managed pretty well under the umbrella, and
the waterproof spread in a corner of the shed ; but the
rest, who were crouched round the fire, were not happy.
The roof was no protection, as it was full of large holes,
and half of it was quite gone. I preferred this uncovered
corner, as I was quite protected by my umbrella and
waterproof, though the space so protected was just enough
to keep me dry standing or sitting. Having written up
my journal and talked my companions dry, I fell back on
an old Pioneer that happened to be in my blanket and
read it through, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing.
To sit down for any length of time in the pungent smoke,
on a very hard stone, was impossible, so most of the time
I stood, my head touching the ribs of the umbrella, and
my eyes just on a level with the top of the hut wall.

The smoke conquered me at last, and I had to abandon
my paper, shut my eyes, and think what a fool I was to
endure such discomforts for the sake of a buck goat !
Just before dusk, as the storm came to an end, I heard a
bird piping joyously among the rocks close by — -the only
sound that broke the silence which had suddenly fallen
upon us. It was a feeble note, and would have been
inaudible fifty yards off; but the ring of joy in it was
unmistakable, and mentally I joined in the little bird's
song, for I knew he was the harbinger of fair weather.
Before darkness fell I had time to get out and have a look
round. My musical friend was on a rock close by — a
very homely-looking, russet-coloured little bird. He sat

92 IBEX SHOOTING

beside his nest, and the partner of his joys kept the eggs
warm within ; my heart went out to that bird. No other
living creature, beside my companions, was within miles,
and the scene, though grand, was depressing in its
desolation. I turned in for the night in the goat-hole,
between the fire and the rocky wall — Africa on one side
and Iceland on the other ! I had a bad night, but luckily
there was no rain or snow. Jafar Bata slept next to me ;
then Sharafa and Jamala ; Mirza Khan elected to sleep
outside — there was no room for him ; he had the shelter
of some piled logs and a fire all to himself ; but it went
out durin" the niijlit, and in the morning Mirza Khan
looked cold and woe-begone.

At 5.15 we left camp, and went straight up hill to a
point where Mirza Khan had seen some ibex (females)
last evening. They had gone along the ridge down the
valley, seeking shelter from the storm, so we followed
their tracks. The slopes of this open valley were sheets
of snow. From the top of the ridge we examined carefully
with the glasses every inch of ground up to the rocky wall
at the head of the valley ; not a single living thing was
visible, but it was not surprising. The violence of the
recent storm had no doubt driven all the game away to
shelter on the slopes of the Chilas valley, and they would
not return to this side till the snow had melted. It was
very bad luck to have such awful weather, as it lost me
the best chance I was likely to have of bagging large
ibex.

The upper Hasharai is of the usual saucer shape, level
and undulating below, and gently sloping, grass-covered, in
some places stony hills all round. The highest portion
dividing it from the Chilas country is a rocky ridge,
running round the head of the valley. Three streamlets
run down to the bottom, and join to form the main stream.

MARK THREE BUCKS 93

A path runs along its bank to the top of the ridge, beyond
which is the Chilas viUage of Khincr, about six miles
distant from the goat-shed. According to Mirza Khun,
Khiner is the village next in importance to Chilas itself.
I horrified Mirza Khan when, in the extremity of despair
in the goat-hole, I proposed walking across to visit Khiner.
Boin is divided by a ridge from Husharai ; the former
looks much the more promising as ibex ground, and, as I
v/as certain there were some good bucks there, I resolved
to return to my former hunting quarters, and sent Jamala
down to bring the coolies and traps round. I had time
for only another week's shikar before my return tramp
must begin, and I meant to make the most of it. After
breakfast I went down the spur into Boin valley. I had
not gone far when a hurricane of wind, snow, and sleet
came on, and I had to crouch behind a rock not much
larger than myself on the bare hillside ; there was no
other cover except a few thin and scattered birch-trees.
I stayed there till I became hopeless of the storm abating,
and then made straight down for camp instead of going
along the hillside towards the head of the valley ; thus we
were obliged to abandon the exploration of a most likely
portion of ibex country. I had not gone far when the
storm suddenly came to an end, and I regretted much
having come down so soon ; but a providence directs the
movements of a solitary sportsman as well as the march of
nations. Sitting on the hillside and scanning the central
ridcfe of Boin where T had shot the ibex, Mirza Khan saw
three huge bucks towards the end of the spur, in the
direction of camp ! Had the shower not driven us down
so low, we must have missed seeing them. Two of the
ibex were grazing, and the third was lying near a large
fiat white stone, a capital mark to guide the stalker ; he
was a few yards above the other two, and had the largest

94 IBEX SHOOTING

horns. In a direct line they were not more than a mile
away, but to get to them we should have to go double the
distance, down to the bottom of the valley, across the
stream, and up again over some precipices, which, from
this side, looked utterly impracticable.

We soon rushed down to the bottom, but going up was
much slower work, and we had some trouble getting across
the cliffs. There was luckily a goat-path along the rocks ;
there were bad places in it, but with such game before us
they were all crossed without hesitation. After this the
going was easy enough, and I think we got into position
above our quarry within an hour of starting. They had
not moved from the spot where we had marked them
down, and the best one was still taking his ease near the
white rock. Creeping cautiously, we got within fifteen
yards of him, and about thirty from the other two feeding
below us. It was a most exciting position, but it was also
a most uncomfortable and trying one for me who had to
use the rifle. The slope of the hill was very abrupt, and
I could not get firm footing on the crumbling earth. I
was standing behind a rock, partially covered by the
branches of a small tree, and standing on tiptoe I could
see the ibex lying down, gazing steadily across the valley.
There was a shallow water-channel between us. When I
stooped down I could see him but indistinctly through
the foliage. In neither position could I fire, and the
excitement of such close quarters and uncertain footiug
was telling on my nerve. For at least two minutes I
remained looking right into the eyes of the unconscious
buck, and admiring the splendid sweep of his horns.
There was a far-off look in his large liquid eyes, as if he
were watching for danger on the hillside opposite, where
we must have been under his view an hour ago — he
certainly was not aware of the danger within fifteen yards

AWKWARD POSITION FOR A SHOT 95

of him, as he lazily shook his head and flapped his ears to
drive off the flies. Once he looked straight into my eyes,
but the thick screen of leaves and the rock saved me from
discovery ; the wind, I need not say, was favourable.

I found at length a small space among the leaves
through which I thought I could bring the siglits to bear on
the buck's shoulder. I had to raise myself on my toes a
little to level the ritie, and that is not a steady position for
a shot. There was no other way, however — delay would be
fatal, and I had to chance it. Motioning Sharafa to hold
up my feet with his hands, I stood on tiptoe, took aim, and
fired. I missed ! The buck sprang to his feet and stood
for a moment confounded. I gave him the second barrel,
and missed again ! The ibex vanished round the hill, and
I thought seriously of suicide. Sharafa brought me to my
senses by bidding me look out for the other two, and,
turning round, I went dowm a few paces ; no bucks could
be seen, but a minute after, as we stood motionless
watching, one dashed from under our position to my right
about forty yards off; he was going fast, but I tumbled
him over like a rabbit with a bullet through his neck.
Sharafa gave a satisfied grunt, and I prepared for the third,
but he never showed. We crossed his tracks afterwards
on our return to camp ; he had rushed down some distance
before turning along the hillside.

Eeason having returned, I could not bring myself to
believe that I had missed the big buck twice at fifteen
yards. Mirza Khan said I had hit at the second
shot, but the ibex went off with such a rush that I was
extremely doubtful. However, to make certain, Sharafa
went off to follow up his tracks, Mirza Khan having gone
down to halal the second ibex. After ten minutes Sharafa
presently returned to report that he had found blood on
the tracks ; a hundred yards farther on he came to a place

96 IBEX SHOOTINCx

where the ibex had rolled, and, having followed the traces
to the edge of the precipice, he looked over and saw the
ibex lying dead in the Boin stream at the bottom of the
valley. After a flight of a hundred yards, the animal
must have collapsed and rolled down, shooting the precipice
and falling plump into the water, two hundred and fifty
yards below. Leaving Mirza Khan to cut off the second
buck's head, Sharafa and I returned, climbed down to the
stream, and followed it till we came to the carcase. What
a smash there had been ! The body was in two portions,
the horns were in several pieces, the lower jaw was missing
altoo-ether, and the skin about the head was much torn.
I was in despair at the loss of such a fine head, when
Sharafa pointed out that the horns could be mended, as
the cores had not been injured. He cut off the head, and,
having picked up all the pieces of horn we could see,
fitted them and found that none were missing. As the
animal's throat had not been cut in the orthodox fashion,
the meat was of no use, so we left the mutilated carcase,
and waited for Mirza Khan with the other head.

I examined with the glasses the face of the precipice
down which the ibex had fallen. A pair of large hill-
crows were busy picking up bits of flesh from the ledges
of rock, and by their movements I could judge exactly the
line of descent. After falling over the edge, the un-
fortunate ibex must have twice struck rocky projections
before the fearful and final smash, a short distance above
the stream, whence it rolled into the water. The perpen-
dicular height was not less than two hundred and fifty
yards, as well as I could guess, but Sharafa said it was
more. That the head and horns had not been utterly
ruined by such a fall was a wonderful piece of luck. It
was curious to watch the ravens flying from ledge to ledge
to pick up the shreds of flesh. When we began our stalk,

" SHARAFA HELD UP MY FEET.'

INTELLIGENT HILL-CROWS 97

these birds appeared at once to divine our intentions.
I was sure this was not the first time they had witnessed
an ibex-stalk. They found our quarry at once, and sat
close by the animals on a tree, croaking impatiently for
the denouement. After my first shot they disappeared,
and I never saw them again till I came down to the
stream.

This was not the first time I had noticed the intelligence
of these birds ; a pair of them always attended our camp,
and followed us when we went off on our shooting ex-
cursions. I do not think they were the same pair,
however. I fancy a pair locate themselves permanently in
each valley. After we had left our breakfasting places,
they invariably came down to them and made a thorough
search for crumbs, etc. They were extremely cautious and
cunning. I tried several times to tempt them down with
pieces of chapati, thrown to some distance. They would
hover a few yards over the bread, or sit on a tree close by
eyeing it intently, but never attempting to seize the
morsels while I remained on the spot ; but as soon as we
left, they flew down, and had cleared away all the crumbs
before we had gone many yards. They were present at
almost every stalk I attempted, and, I am sure, were as
much pleased with good shots as I was myself. On the
other hand, I daresay I often heard their expressions of
disgust at my failures. They were most amusing in their
habits, which I watched closely, for hours together, when
lying idle on the hillside. This must have been their
pairing season, or connubial affection has been highly
cultivated among hill-crows. When the female was any
distance off from her lord, he would take up his position
on the thick branch of a tree and begin a series of calls
with every modulation of which his jarring voice was
capable : first it was a wheedling caw of affection, accom-
7

g8 IBEX SHOOTING

panied by a gentle rustle of the wings ; soon it changed
into a querulous complaint of neglect; if this did not
fetch her, he lost his temper, and, with a loud caw of rage,
ordered her up. At this last stage he became most
energetic ; his head went down at every utterance, and his
tail worked like a lever. All this meant that he wanted
his head scratched. When the wife did turn up, she
proceeded at once to rub his skull all over with her beak —
an endearment which sent the old fellow into ecstacies,
every feather in his body quivering with enjoyment ; then
he would launch himself in the air and, sailing in wide
circles, scan the hilly slopes from side to side ; then, with
wings at an acute angle, he would flutter across the valley
and back again, uttering self-satisfied cries. This, I
suppose, to excite the admiration of his partner. The
female was less demonstrative. She seemed always
intent on household cares, and toil had evidently sobered
her. She reminded me of the women of the country,
whose whole life seemed one long drudgery. If these
intellio-ent birds could be trained to mark down game,
the sportsman would be saved many a weary trudge,
and have many more chances of making a bag than he

has now.

Mirza Khan came up after a long delay, which Sharafa
attributed to his desire to hide the meat ; but Mirza Khan
said he had left it all on the hillside, bringing away the head
and skin, and enough for his own dinner, that is, the liver,
heart, kidneys, etc. The measurements of the two heads
were as follows : — the larger 45 inches round the curve,
the smaller 32| inches.

After breakfast next day, as we were discussing
how I might best spend the three days I had left, a
messenger, Manawar Khan, brought from the commandant
of the Bunji fort a letter which put a summary end to

LETTER FROiM BUNJI COMMANDANT 99

our plans. This is a copy of the missive, which was
written on a dirty half-sheet of letter-paper :

" Sir, — To-day received a written order on nie that in
Yasin enemies reached for battle. Therefore I be^s that
you kindly return in Boonjee. If you cannot come, then
send me certification soonly. — Your servant,

"Farman All"

My friend, Bagh Singh, the commandant, had, it seems,
gone in hot haste to Gilgit, so the letter was signed by the
fort adjutant now in command. On the back of it was a
Persian letter, more detailed and much more comprehensible.

"From Fahmax Alt, Adjutant. — The General (at
Gilgit) has informed me, by telegram, that Pehlwan Khan
and Mulk Aman, the rebels, have created a disturbance in
Yasin, and have collected an armed force. For this reason
I request the favour of your at once leaving your shooting
ground, which is close to foreign territory and most danger-
ous, and returning to Biinji. I have received very urgent
orders from the General on this point. If you still remain
after this intimation, kindly send me a certificate to the
effect that you do so on your own responsibility.

" Farman Ali, of the Dhi'raj Kegiment."

It was obvious also that our supplies were stopped. I had
sent down for a supply of flour to last three days more,
and Manawar informed me that no flour was to be had ;
a sudden scarcity had fallen on the land ! I was obliged,
therefore, to give in, so packed up the skins and heads and
marched for the main stream at once. My shooting in
this valley was over. I had been thirty-one days here,
and had gone through much rough and hard work, bagging

loo IBEX SHOOTING

two markhor and three ibex, not a large bag ; but I had
had a glorious time. The mountain air and vigorous
exercise formed a splendid tonic, worth a donkey-load of
doctor's stuff, and I felt as strong and healthy as I was
when ten years younger.

It was a difficult business settling up with Mirza Khan.
He had been with me a month, and I paid him twenty-five
rupees, but he was not satisfied. He had certainly worked
hard, and had served me right well. He asked for pay-
ment for the goats' milk that had been supplied to me.
I paid him three rupees, about double its vakie, and he
then demanded sugar for a sick child in some distant
village (a palpable invention), and I gave him over a pound.
At last, being at his wits' end, he demanded from Sharafa
that he should be paid for the logs of wood that we had
burned at our fires on the mountain side. I drew the line
here, and the stream of my rupees dried up, but as a
parting gift I gave him the largest skinning knife I had,
remembering that several times I had seen him admiring
it. He was gratified, but still seemed to regret his
inability to frame pleas for further extortion. On the
whole, I was pleased with Mirza Khan. He was every
inch a mountaineer, and a true shikari. Without him my
sport in this valley would have been very tame indeed,
and my bag would have been about as large as that of my
predecessor, who worked over the same ground for three
weeks or more, and had to leave at last without a single
head of game.

CHAPTER VII

BEAR SHOOTING

Return to Buiiji— A nervous Kashmiri— The Indus and Kashmiri hoatmen—
My raw tahh^servant— Roadi Ast/iv— Settlini,' with Rozi Khan and
company— A bieolourfd stream— The Kashmir army at drill- Tlie eom-
mandant— The ninjor— Attained his majority bel'ore he was horn—
Reaeli Chhagam— Bad weather and great discomfort— The Mir Malik
valley— Flower-carpets— Another difficult dining performance- Rower
of the evil eye— Shoot a musk-deer- Effect of the "450 liollow huUet—
The voice of young Bruin betrays his mother— Maternal love— A long
stalk— Bag my first bear— A beautiful evening— A bear escapes— Stalk
two others— How they disported themselves— Bag only one tlirough a
mistake— A splendid trophy— Proceed farther up the valley— A magni-
fied fox— Cross the pass— Sharafa slips, Imt saves the rifle - In Gurc's
again.

Early the next morning I started for Biinji. After a
short delay at the ferry, we crossed on the boat and got
over safely. The Kashmiris are great cowards on water.
One young man, a traveller, strong and sturdy, amused me
greatly. He was in abject fear from the time he put his
foot in the boat till he jumped out of it on the other bank.
He began his prayers as he entered, mumbling them
scarcely above his breath ; when the boat was cast off,
they became quite audible ; by the time she was in the
centre of the stream and buffeted by boisterous waves, his
voice rose to a pitch loud enough to be heard on both
banks ; but as the boat neared the other side his voice fell
in proportion ay the danger lessened, and, by the time we

101

I02 BEAR SHOOTING

came to, had subsided again to a murmur. The passage

was somewhat rough, though short, and the boat used for

crossing was very unsuitable for such a river. In shape

it was exactly like the boats on the Jehlani, in the valley,

liut longer, without increase of beam. When the river is

rougher than usual, all crossing is stopped, sometimes

for two and three days. The boatmen are Kashmiris

imported from the Jehlam, the timidest watermen in the

world, and perhaps the worst for such a strong and

boisterous river as the Indus at this ferry. The Bunji

ferry was the most important point on the main route

from Kashmir to the frontier post, Gilgit, for many years

before I travelled in these parts, and certainly the weakest

link of communication ; but the Kashmir officials of that

period never gave the matter a thought, though disasters

had occurred more than once, owing to the breakdowns

caused by rough weather. Of course these defects were

promptly removed when the Gilgit Agency was established

by the Indian Government. I reached Biinji at 10 p.m.,

and found here my invalid khidmatgar. A dirty sheet

was his only garment ; the middle portion of his body was

perfectly raw ; the blisters he had suffered from had burst,

but would not heal ; he was plastered over with a black,

greasy ointment which, he said, had been given him by a

wise man in the fort. I vowed on the spot that I would

never eat anything from his hands again, and realisation of

my dreams of warm and comforting food was delayed.

It was extremely hot down in the plain, and the Hies in

the apricot garden were a perfect plague. I sent my traps

on ahead and started again in the evening, camped on the

road for a few hours, and moved on at midnight. This

night march was absolutely necessary at this time of the

year, as the heat made day travel most dangerous, most

risky.

REACH ASTOR 103

We reached the crest of the Huttii Pi'r Pass at seven,
thus saving myself and the men a very trying ordeal.
The porters from Damot dreaded the sun and heat as
much as I did myself, and came along in the dark very
willingly. The first rays of the sun caught us as we were
topping the pass, but fifty yards down the other side we
were in the shade of the mountain, and we pushed on
without being touched by the sun at all We reached
Doin fort at 9.30 a.m. ; the sun was hot enough then, and
I was glad enough to seek shelter in the small travellers'
bungalow. I returned by the upper or mule road ; the
heat on the lower road by which I had gone up would
have been quite unendurable, and, in that portion of it
where those terrible ups and downs occur, heat apoplexy
after ten o'clock would have been a certainty. The higher
road, though it is longer and the ascent of the Huttii Pir is
very stiff, is much the pleasanter route.

On the second day, at 1 p.m., I reached Astor. Eozi
Khan, Wazir, called in the evening, and the silver stream
had to flow again. I had promised the Wazi'r a double-
barrelled gun if he got me sport to my satisfaction, but, as
my bag was by no means large, I considered that he had
not earned the present, and gave him, instead, twenty
rupees in cash and my best double blanket : he was well
pleased. Fancy " squaring " the chief official in a district
in the plains with a similar gift ! But then the Magistrate
and Collector in a British district maintains the dignity of
his position on forty rupees per mensem. I bought four
maunds of flour, ten days' supply for a ten days' expedition
after brown bears. I had just that time to spare, and
intended making the most of it. I found the old postman
here, twenty-one days from the date he last left me. He
was the only man of my party who had not given satis-
faction. I degraded him and made him a baggage-porter.

I04 BEAR SHOOTING

My next march was to G-urikot, which I reached at
8.30; we halted under the shade of leafy walnuts,
surrounded by fields of green wheat — a most unusual
sight for the traveller from the scorched plains of Hindustan
in June. The country about here strongly reminded one
of a home farm. It was difficult to tear myself away from
this pleasant spot when the coolies came up — especially
as I knew that the road ahead was a hot one for several
miles. We crossed the river by a bridge, and followed the
right bank for a couple of miles, then recrossed by another
bridge, and halted under a tree for breakfast. The sun
was extremely powerful, and I was forced to seek shelter
for a couple of hours. There was a striking contrast
between the two streams that join below this road, a short
way from the first bridge. The larger, the one that rises
in the Biirzil Pass on the Giires route to Kashmir, was
pea-soupy in colour, while the other was bright and
sparkling. The contrast was very noticeable for some
distance below the junction, the bright stream seeming to
shrink from its muddy companion as long as possible.
At Chhagam I met the gentleman who had occupied the
Buldar nala. He obtained two pairs of nice markhor heads
with horns of 39 and 37 inches: they were not long, but
very broad and massive, and curved gracefully outwards.

In the morning, at the Idgdh (praying - place), the
polo ground of the village, about two miles on this side of
Astor, I liad an opportunity of seeing half of that garrison
at drill. The sepoys flocked down the path like so many
sheep, the men of various regiments mixed up anyhow,
and in every variety of uniform and equipment. I could
hardly get along for the crowd. Young and old, sick and
lame, were all turning out. It seemed necessary for every
one to put in an appearance on the parade-ground, if he
could crawl so far carrying a musket. I met some

KASHMIR ARMY AT DRILL 105

veterans carrying a rifle in one hand, while a stout stick in
the other supported their steps. Undress uniform was
evidently the order of the day : no two sepoys, even of the
same regiment, were clothed alike, and the accoutrements
displayed rich variety of colour and pattern. This parti-
coloured mass of "soldiers" resolved itself into three
separate groups on the polo (Pulu is the indigenous name)
ground — a large piece of oblong greensward, with pools of
water standing in many places, and surrounded by rough
stone walls. Drill was in full swing, though parties of
men were joining the various groups at each word of
command. Each regiment seemed to have its own peculiar
words of command in its own particular language. The
commandant and drill-sergeant took separate portions of
their regiment, and drilled them alongside of each other,
each bawling different orders at the same time. The
manual and platoon exercises were first got through, then
the men did it themselves, going through the motions with
great energy to a sing-song tune, marking the time of " ck,
do, tin" (one, two, three). At the end of each exercise
the commandant shouted out his " Shdhhash " (well done),
and told his " children " to rest. The Balbhadr regiment
went through the bayonet exercise at the English words of
command. This was really a dangerous exercise, for as
the men made their points, several bayonets were thrown
off their muskets to long distances, and fell about pro-
miscuously. When this fatiguing business was over, and
all the lost bayonets recovered, the commandnnt ordered
his regiment to rest — and they all squatted. He then
came over to me and had a chat. A strange dog turned
up during this conversation ; the regiment at once broke
ranks and chivied it down the hillside with the aid of
their own mongrels, which had turned out in great force.
The commandant is a pure Purbiah (Southerner) from the

io6 BEAR SHOOTING

Cawnpore district, and is a pleasant, gentlemanly man.
He introduced me to the major, a gentleman from Akhniir,
a hill-town not far from Jami'i, who attained his majority
before he was born, according to the commandant's state-
ment. The major's uncle, an officer of the same rank in
the Maharajah's army, was killed before Chilas when that
stronghold was stormed many years ago. The deceased
left no son, the greatest misfortune, both in this world and
the next, that could befall a Hindu. The thoughtful ruler
of Kashmir was grieved. He made the slain major's
brother marry, and ordained that when a son was born he
should receive his deceased uncle's commission. Thus this
gentleman attained his majority. Each regiment had its
band on the ground, which struck up whenever they saw
a favourable opportunity. Tiie musket stocks of the
different regiments were dyed different colours.

Up to Chhagam I had followed again the route by
which I went up to my shooting. I now left this track
to have a few days' urin (Ovis vignci) and brown bear
shooting, sending on my extra luggage by the Guais route
to Bandpiira in charge of the khidmatgar, taking only the
usual kit for a ten days' outing at the higher elevations.

It rained during the night. There was no sign of it
clearing up at 5 a.m., so I started, as we had some distance
to go before reaching the nearest urin ground. We went
up the right side of the valley, and got to the ridge after
some wet climbing : up here a cold wind was blowing
furiously from the higher slopes. We took a peep into
the Mir Malik valley, and had a glimpse of splendid
ground for urin just below us ; but the wind was blowing
with such fury, shaking the rain to and fro, like a vast
sheet of dirty-coloured cloth, that we were glad to bolt
down hill and get under shelter of the biggest birch-tree
we could find. Here we made a fire of wet birch logs, and

BAD WEATHER 107

sat and stood over it for three mortal hours. The trunk
of the tree was just large enough to protect one person,
and that was myself ; but even I, after a short time, gave
up the position in favour of the ritles, which were getting
frightfully wet, notwithstanding all the care of the shikari ;
their best dodge was leaning them against the tree trunk
and covering them with sheets of birch bark. There were
eight of us, and most miserable objects we were to look at.
I had to eat my breakfast standing, and, under the circum-
stances, it was one of the most difficult performances I
went throuo-h during this trip. The coolies ate their
cakes as best they could, with the help of lumps of snow
from the neicjhbourin" snow-field. At eleven o'clock the
rain held off a little, and we made another start and
crossed the ridge. We had not gone a hundred yards
when the flood-gates were again opened, and we were
aG:ain driven to seek shelter under trees and rocks. This
time we had the full force of the cutting wind right in
our faces, and ten minutes of it was enough ; we rushed
down the slope to a clump of firs, about a quarter of a
mile below, and made another huge fire, regardless of any
game that might be above looking at us. The weather
cleared gradually from two o'clock, and once more we
started up the slope and went along the hillside — first-rate
places for urin — but saw nothing. We camped in the
evening in a very tight place under a rock ; luckily it
cleared up at night.

In the morning the sun peeped over the opposite range
for ten minutes, and then the clouds hid him again. We
started early and went along the hillside, slanting upwards
for a good distance, disturbing a half-grown ibex not one
hundred yards from the place where we had camped. I
saw some others shortly afterwards on the ridge, high up,
but there were only two small males in the flock. We

io8 BEAR SHOOTING

came to the spur running down to the village of Mi'r
Malik, but there were no urin to be seen anywhere — it
was too early for them on this ground, and we ought to
have tried above Chhagam ; they had not yet come as far
as the valley. I came down to the village at noon,
collected all the coolies, getting a couple of extra men to
carry supplies and show the road, and started again up
the Mir Malik stream. This is a most charming valley —
broad and open, the hillsides sloping gently down to the
stream ; the vegetation is luxuriant and water abundant ;
the ground was carpeted with thick grass, and had a turfy
spring under the foot. Hardly half a mile of the patli
but we crossed a stream of sparkling water from the
snowy slopes above. Flowers of many hues jostled each
other in the grass, to get a peep at the sun, especially the
yellow crocus, which was in full Hower. These grew in
large beds here and there on the hillside, and from a
distance glowed like a field of cloth of gold. The main
stream runs at the foot of the range bounding the right of
the vallev, thus uiving the mountains on the left a gentler
slope down to the water's edge. Our path led over this
gently undulating ground, and we marched up steadily for
five miles, crossing the main stream by a snow-bridge to
the right bank, leaving the usual path up the valley which
leads to the Shotar Pass, and on to the village of Kel in
the Krishganga valley.

Rain, with a cutting wind from up the valley, set in as we
stopped to camp under a rock. It had been drizzling off
and on since we left the village, but now it began to come
down steadily. The wind increased to a gale, and the cold
grew more intense as night came on, I ate my dinner
again under difhculties, being obliged to leave the warmth
of the fire, and seek shelter under the rock where my
blankets were spread ; here, covered by waterproof and

POWER OF THE EVIL EYE 109

umbrella, I crouched under the rock with a pot of rice
between my legs. However, I made a good meal of warm
rice and fine ox-tongue, finished a pot of jam with the help
of a thick chapati, finishing off with two stiff " goes "
of whisky. My blankets were laid right under the rock,
which protected me from the wind but not from the rain.
I got into my " Dutch oven," ^ then between two blankets
and two waterproof sheets, one above and one below, and
was asleep in no time. It must have cleared up soon after,
for I was up in the morning dry and fit for anything.

We started up the Dabin valley on the right at half-
past five. It is broad and open, very grassy, but bare of
trees save for a few stunted bushes along the streams.
The waters of these upper valleys unite about six miles
above the village, and form the main stream lower down.
There is a path to Phiilwain up the Dabin : we took this
direction, as it is a short cut back to the Krishganga
valley. The Chambil valley, which is on the right, takes
its name from a large split rock. It is said that in ancient
times a passing traveller, as he stood before this immense
rock, admiring its grand proportions, said, "What a fine
rock!" Ashe uttered the words, it split in two! This
was told to me as an instance of the power of the " evil
eye " — the most striking effect on record, I should say.
We had not gone a mile when Jamala, behind me, spied
a musk-deer in a clump of dwarf birch-trees above us,
about forty yards off: Sharafa at the time was ahead,
making steps in the snow. The snow -bed sloped very
sharply down to the river, thirty yards below us, which
rushed along at a frightful pace. The deer did not seem
at all alarmed ; I had a shot at him, and missed ; he was
looking down straight at me, and in that position did not

1 An ulster of lambs' wool cloth, a quarter of an inch thick, and lined ;
impervious to the greatest cold. Its weiglit was its only drawback.

no BEAR SHOOTING

offer a large mark, and my footing on the steep incline was
very uncertain. The animal rushed up twenty yards
farther, and stood again — this time giving a fair chance at
his rifjht side. I hit him in the root of the neck, and
nearly severed his head from his body ! Jamala rushed
up, made a gash in the wound, and said the animal had
been properly haUUed. Fresh meat, after a month of
tinned beef, was my first thought. The deer was a young
male, and had small musk pod ; his tusks were not long.
We then recrossed the Dabin stream, and camped at the
end of the spur that separates the upper valleys, then
went up the Chambil nullah, crossed the stream, and toiled
up the left hillside for a long way, but could find no trace
even of bears in any direction. It was half-past nine, and
I was thinking tenderly of breakfast, when the voice of
young Bruin was borne to us on the morning breeze, from
the far-off mountain slope in front and above. We all
cocked our ears and laid them to the welcome sound, like
so many hounds. We heard it distinctly three times, but
the faintness of the cry told us we had a long and toilsome
stalk before us. Young Bruin had, no doubt, lost sight of
his worthy mother, and by thus raising his voice betrayed
her. Sharafa searched the mountain sides in every direc-
tion with the glasses, but it was a long time before he
spied the mother and her young hopeful, very far away,
and very high up indeed. The stalk began at once, first
straight up hill for half a mile, then faster along the hill-
side, often a run, for a mile, and we were at last above the
family party, who were still over two hundred yards from
us. The wind was in the right quarter, and I had time
to recover breath, for tlie ground was so open that we
could not approach nearer without the certainty of being
seen at once, and we had to lie and watch them for a long
time. Mother Bruin sauntered off to a shady rock and

BAG MY FIRST BEAR in

lay down, as the sun was getting warm ; young Bruin at

once tried to improve the opportunity, and attempted to

suckle — a hulking beast nearly half-grown ! He got a clip

on the side of his head from his mother's paw, that sent

him howling down to the grass, when he again began his

search for roots. As soon as he wandered out of sight,

his mother, anxious for her precious child, got up, and

both gradually worked down the ridge, grubbing up roots

and eating the tender young grass in damp places. We

worked down parallel to their course along our ridge, and

so gradually approached them. At last they crossed over

to our side, and we slipped down at once, getting within

fifty yards. The bear had her right side to me, looking

down hill. I fired, and hit her just behind the shoulder :

she rushed down the slope of the hill for a few yards, and

stood for a moment ; the second shot missed her, and off

she went again. I missed again, but she went very

groggily now for a short distance, and stood on a rock,

giving me a fair chance. The fourth shot took her in the

small ribs on the right side again, and she fell over dead

into a split in the rock. I could have bagged young

hopeful too, but spared the rascal in the hope that he

might give good sport another day. The shikaris were

very anxious that I should shoot him too ; he deserved

punishment for betraying his mother, but I stayed my hand.

The dead bear was sitting bolt upright in the crack, which

was just the size to hold her body in that position. She

looked so natural that for a moment I thought she was

still alive. The stalk took us exactly two and a half

hours, and it was hard going most of the time— not bad

work, I felt, for a hungry man, who was just on tlie point

of attacking his breakfast. It was a beautiful day —

bright sun, intensely blue sky, with fleecy clouds and a

delicious breeze — such a contrast to the last three days !

112 BEAR SHOOTING

A lark began his melodious even-song a few yards from
the leafy hut that had been prepared for me, and kept it
up long after the sun had imprinted his last kiss on the
highest hilltop. The evening star, a blaze of light in the
west, illumined the valley, casting distinct shadows on the
sward. The lark would make believe to drop to his nest
like a stone from the blue sky, but, when a few yards from
it, would mount again on quivering wings, till out of
sight once more, splitting his throat with melody. It was
glorious, and gave to the scene around a finishing touch
that nothing could surpass.

Next day we went farther up the Dabin valley, the
coolies following some distance behind. The road was
blocked by bears. We had not gone half a mile when one
was seen on the hillside on the right bank of the stream,
obliging us to go back and cross by a snow-bridge. We
began the stalk, but just as we were within range some-
thing disturbed the bear, and he bolted in our direction,
but a little above us ; he was not more than fifty yards
from me at one point, running as hard as he could go. I
waited for him to stop to make sure of him — a fatal
mistake, for he never stopped, but went rushing on as if
the devil were after him ! At one hundred yards or so I
had two snap-shots at him, and of course missed ; a third
shot at much longer range was also unsuccessful ; and alto-
gether this stalk was fairly bungled. We never discovered
what alarmed the bear, but probably he saw the coolies
on the path across the stream, though the distance was
more than half a mile and the men were lying still, not
moving about. We went along the right side of the valley
and crossed a narrow gorge running down to the main
stream, and had not gone half a mile beyond this gorge
when two large bears were sighted on the hillside opposite,
across the stream, about half a mile above the path along

o
o

a

<
>

Ed

a

STALK TWO BEARS 113

which the coolies would presently be coming. One was a

splendid animal with very bright-coloured fur, and I set

my heart on him at once. I watched them for some time

through the large telescope : they were very hungry and

also very playful; after industrious grubbing for a time,

they would set to and have a friendly wrestle, then, as the

sun was getting high and hot, they would rush off to the

shade of a rock and sit there panting ; I could see their

lolling tongues quite distinctly through the telescope.

After getting cool, they would come out again and have

another feed until they could bear the sun no longer ;

their winter coats were certainly heavy wear for this

weather. We had to retrace our steps before we could

cross the stream safely. I went over on a coolie's back,

and then began a very trying ascent up the hillside to get

above the bears before attempting the stalk, I had to go

half a mile straight up with the sun blazing on my back,

and I did not wonder that the bears should feel it. After

cfoing high enough, we went along the hillside till we were

above the place where our game had been marked down,

when we had some anxious moments, as we could not make

certain of their exact whereabouts after losing sight of

them for so long ; but we knew they had not left the spot,

as the coolie left below to watch them signalled that they

were still there. We crawled on to a large rock that

jutted out of the hillside in a sharp point, giving us a

capital look-out station, which commanded the ground all

round, and determined to remain here till we had again

sighted our game ; and after some anxious watching, both

the bears turned a swell in the hillside and came slowly

towards the rock on which we lay. This was luck, for

once. They were grubbing up roots and feeding on the

grass, and took their time over it, so I had ample time to

examine their coats and admire their fine proportions.

8

114 BEAR SHOOTING

They were less than a hundred yards off, and still came on.
The light-coloured bear was by far the largest, and had
the best fur ; I would have him first. They were now
not fifty yards off, and Sharafa, who was lying close to me,
became so excited and insistent that I covered this bright-
coloured one, and hit him fairly behind the right shoulder.
At the crack of the rifle both the bears rushed up to my
right, turned and stood, and I again hit one in the left
shoulder. The light-coloured bear now rushed round the
slope out of sight, and the other bolted across my front
and then down the hillside to my left, standing for a
moment about two hundred yards off. I missed him with
No. 2, and he disappeared. The wounded bear, after going
about thirty yards, had collapsed and rolled down the hill.
After examining him I discovered I had made a most
stupid mistake : I had determined to plug the light-furred
one with the first barrel and the other with the second,,
and thought 1 had done so ; but when the slain bear was
skinned I found two bullet holes, one behind each shoulder,
exactly opposite each other — I had fired twice at the same
animal ! After the first shot they mixed in the rush, and
in the confusion I mistook the one already hit for the
unwounded one. As the holes appeared, it seemed as if
one bullet had gone right through. But this was im-
possible, for the Henry bullet always smashes up ; and in
this instance, both shots having been fired at rather an
acute angle from above, one bullet could not have gone
horizontally through the bear's shoulders. The broad head,
handsome fur, and immense size of the animal made a
splendid trophy. I was loth to have him skinned. His
head was the finest I had ever seen, and I was greatly
tempted to preserve it for setting up ; but to cut it off
would have been to spoil the skin. From the neck to the
point of the nose taped fourteen inches ; between the ears

PROCEED FARTHER UP THE VALLEY 115

eight and a half inches ; length of hind foot seven inches.
The two hullets had made a terrible smash inside him.
These bears take a lot of killing. This stalk began at
9 o'clock and ended at 10.30.

Having come down to the main stream, we stretched
the skin, and presently moved on, camping at sunset where
the valley turns sharp to the right and the last of the
vegetation is found : this was the foot of the pass that we
were to cross to regain the Krishganga valley. Its turn
to the right is so sudden and unexpected that, as one comes
up the valley, a semicircular wall of rocks, with a glacier
peeping over it, appears to close the end of it. A splendid
waterfall, just opposite our camping-place on the other side
of the valley, thundered down to the stream below, the
only sound audible. I saw a quantity of trout in the
stream as we marched up ; the coolies caught some with
their hands.

Starting early for the pass, we went up a gentle ascent
for two miles, then had a very stiff scramble up to the
ridge ; it took us over three hours, and there was snow on
the ground every inch of the way. When we were about
half-way up I saw ahead of us a fox gambolling about
and evidently enjoying himself, though it was a cold and
dreary place for a solitary lark. There was absolutely
nothing to be seen for miles round but snow and glacier,
and the fox must have been travelling across the pass like
ourselves. We tried to stalk him, but he was above and
ahead of us, and was master of the situation. The last I
saw of him was through thick mist, his head peeping over
a rock ; it looked as large and exactly the same shape as
the head of the bear I shot yesterday, so greatly did the
mist magnify. The descent on the other side of the pass
was very difficult and dangerous for a short distance.
The coolies from the village led the way, followed by

ii6 BEAR SHOOTING

Sharafa, who had not gone many yards before he slipped on
a snow-hidden rock, and went head over heels, bumping
on rocks and rolling over the snowy slope. I made np
my mind that the stock at least of the rifle he carried had
been smashed ; but Sharafa, like a true sportsman, took
the bumps and knocks himself and saved the weapon : he
was not hurt, but very much shaken. We passed a frozen
lake, about half a mile below the crest. We had been
warned at the village not to walk on it, so we gave it a
wide berth. There was snow on the ground all the way
down. At noon we reached the first birch-trees. There
were two bears' tracks along the path on the snow almost
all the way from last camp ; the tracks were quite fresh,
and must have been made late in the evening — no sun
had shone or snow fallen on them, and the impressions
were very distinct. I concluded that w^e must have
disturbed the pair on the previous night. There was
splendid-looking ibex ground on both sides of the pass, but
we saw no sign of ibex anywhere. We camped at one
o'clock under a large rock, having reached the Gures
district, on the watershed of the Krishganga, and in the
valley of Phulwain.

CHAPTER YIII

BEAR SHOOTING — {continued)

The beautiful Phulwain valley— Good for stags in the season— A dangerous
pathway— Reach Bagtour— Beautiful Krishganga valley— Anti^cipating
a bofjus thunderstorm— Waiting for an unpunetual bear— Sharafa's
imaghiary ailments— Shoot a musk-deer— Tremendous power of Henry's
•450° Express— Musk-deer numerous— How they are slaughtered— The
Hant valley— Nanga Parbat— Legends about it— How the "naked
mountain" was named— The nomenclature of Himalayan peaks— Ibex
not at home— A snow-cock's family— The power of maternal love-
Delude a coolie— Waiting for a bear- A friendly hill-crow turns him
out of cover— A painful stalk— Ends in failure— Wounded bear escapes
—Two graceful hinds— Little flies cause great irritation— Hill -crows
drive a musk-deer over me— A bear's bed-chamber— He is out— My
shooting-trip comes to an end— The last notes in my journal— Return
journey.

There was rain towards morning, but the large rock under
which my blankets were spread kept me dry. We went
up a side valley, but saw nothing, and came back to try
the main valley, which opened out with lovely views on
every side. It was impossible to go ten steps without
stopping to enjoy the scenery : such a change from the bare
rocks and precipices I had been contemplating for the last
two months ! I wanted to camp and rest in every pleasant
spot I passed, and progress in consequence was very slow
indeed. Far away, on the sky-line, rocky peaks pierced
the sky, their bases muffled in fresh green grass ; below,
on the steep hillsides, hung forests of dark pine and light

117

iiS BEAR SHOOTING

birch, in beautiful contrast. Lower still, the slopes fell in
green undulations to level meadows, glowing with the hues
of a thousand flowers, while sparkling rivulets cut up the
plain into variegated parterres. These little streams
hasten down the sloping hill to join the roaring monster
below, but, frightened by his increasing roar, shrink from
the contact, and stray murmuring among the flowers of
the meadows. From seven until noon I revelled in the
scenery of this valley, and found the time all too short.
We reached the village of Phiilwain at last ; it stands on
the right bank of the Krishganga, and consists of four
log-huts and two fields.

We had seen no trace of game all the way. Sharafa
informed me that this was a good valley for stags when
they first begin to call ; I did come across fresh tracks of
hinds in the upper portion. Even now, had we spent a
week here, wandering along the higher slopes, brown bear
could be found, and perhaps ibex among the rocky peaks
and ridges that bound the valley on the right ; but I had
no time to spare, and, after changing a couple of coolies,
we went on again. The path led up the right bank of the
river ; it was slow and very fatiguing work, pushing our
way through rank vegetation and over the trunks of fallen
trees. There was said to be a goat-track, but it was never
visible, and we had to feel for it in the thick grass at every
step, and were continually losing it. We camped, in the
evening, next the stream — a very cramped place, but the
only clear and dry spot we could find. The Machhal
valley was just across the range in front, and from where
I lay I fancied I could see the very spot where I smashed
my knee-cap two years before, rushing down hill after a
bear that I did not bag.

We were on the move early in the morning, and found
the going as bad as last evening, or worse. This tramp

BEAUTIFUL KRISHGANGA VALLEY 119

was most disagreeable, and often most dangerous : we
had to cross sheets of rock, often high above the water,
sometimes actually below it ; at one point we had to walk
for a few yards along a rocky ledge, a couple of feet below
the water — there was no other practicable path. A slip in
any of these places would have lodged me in the stream
without possibility of escape. The steep grassy slopes, too,
were awkward places, being very greasy and slippery. I
was glad to get to the first village, Sirdari, where these
troubles ended. Krishganga is one of the most beautiful
tracts in Kashmir, and outrivals the valley itself in its com-
bination of forest, fell, and flood. At Halmatto I heard
that a gentleman and his wife had spent ten days here ;
he shot two bears and four musk-deer, and they left for
Kashmir six days ago.

A mile and a half from the villao-e of Bao;tour we
camped on a beautiful spot a few paces from the river. I
had still a few days, and determined to spend them on the
range above this village, where brown bears were said to be
plentiful ; so sent for my friend, the head-man, to arrange
for flour and coolies. Looking up towards Bagtour, three
graceful curves of the river could be traced. Its bed
seeming to be a perfect level, it flows without a sound,
except where an obstructing rock wakes it to complaint.
On either side, the hills, clothed in green, slope gently to
the water's edge, the pine forest on the right bank having
its very roots in the water. Upwards, the jungle-clad hills
swell in green undulations — an island knoll rising here
and there to break the monotony of the wave. High above
all was a stony ridge crested with snow.

During the night there was a thunderstorm. It came
right over the valley, north to south ; and as I lay on the
hillside, without even a tree for shelter, I watched it from
the very beginning, when the black and threatening cloud

120 BEAR SHOOTING

topped the range and swallowed up the stars one by one.
The gradual approach of the storm appeared to me like a
nightmare, as I lay in a half-dreamy state watching. The
big drops came at last, hitting hard and viciously the
waterproof under which I was tucked, my faithful umbrella
over my head — and lo ! it was over in five minutes, leaving
me snug and dry between my blankets. The storm had
passed on, and the stars were again peeping out at its
lower edge, slyly winking at the blustering monster that
had roared so loudly and done so little.

A man I secured in the village to show me " bearish "
places told me of a bear which had been rolling in the
shallow of the stream the day before, and I hoped he
would not intermit his tub to-day; but he came not,
though I dozed in the forest for four hours waiting for his
arrival. At last I started up and climbed beyond the
limit of forest, to the undulating grassy slopes below the
crest of the range ; I saw nothing, though better ground
for bears could not be imagined. Camped in a grove of
pines and birches, Sharafa was slow, sluggish, and dull ;
he said that last night, when the thunder and lightning
came, he started out of bed, thinking the rifles were getting
wet, and so caught a chill. He always posed as a very
delicate creature, racked with pains and aches in every
limb and organ. The condition of his head, his ears, eyes,
back, and legs were all brought to my unsympathetic
notice at various times during the trip, but he received
little comfort and less medicine. He was getting a bad
fever once, and my quinine bottle would have been soon
emptied but that the happy thought struck me to make
him take his dose in my presence : two doses cured him !
Though his ailments failed to touch my heart, the coolies
were thereby greatly moved ; and their sympathy, displayed
in little kind acts, was very soothing to him. To give

SHOOT A MUSK-DEER 121

Sharafa his due, these little indispositions never interfered
with his work, and, when game was in sight or he was
stalking, his affectations were dropped, and he was the
keen shikari, every inch of him. He had the real hunting
instinct, and worked with me in the most pleasant and
satisfactory manner throughout. I considered myself lucky
in having secured his services, and excused his mannerisms
as a phase of the complicated Kashmiri character.

Next day we reached the crest dividing the Hant valley

from Bagtour. Shortly after leaving camp, and while

going through a birch forest, I put up a musk-deer, and

missed him like a man at thirty yards, with the left barrel

of No. 1. The rifle kicked disagreeably, and the bullet

went high. I think its base could not have been seated

on the powder, as I had not crimped it in. This is a

detail which should never be forgotten, as cartridges get a

good deal of shaking about in this kind of shooting, and if

the bullets are not properly secured over the powder, they

work out a little : the consequence is, a disagreeable blow^

on the shoulder and a bad shot at the closest range.

Going on a few yards, I saw the deer again. I hit him

this time with the right of No. 2 at twenty yards : the

bullet blew the poor creature nearly in half. The hair

and meat were blown about the place, but we were all

keen on fresh meat, and the halal was of course successful.

The striking power of Henry's "450 Express, with five drams

of powder, could not have been better exemplified, though

the effect was not pleasant to see. We went to the crest of

the range, and climbed the Losar peak, where ibex were

known to be, but saw nothing, save, on the Hant side, five

musk-deer feeding, for which we did not try lest we might

disturb ibex. Musk-deer were plentiful. The local shikari

from Bagtour, whom I had with me, said that this year, so

far, he had shot only twenty males and alotd twenty

122 BEAR SHOOTING

females, and they were still numerous. He shot two stags
last October. Since the Mahanijali stopped his yearly
demand of stags' heads, the slaughter has decreased, and
only a few are now shot here and there for sale to the skin-
cleaners in Srinagar at five rupees a-head. Musk pods are
sold to traders at two and five rupees each, according to
size. From the crest I had a good view of the Hant
valley ; it is very beautiful, wide and open, and the left
side very level, with a gentle ascent to the ridge that
divides it from the Machhal valley — my old shooting
ground ten years ago. The right side of the valley has
less gentle slopes, and is more densely clothed with forest :
it must be a good place for bears and stags at the proper
season.

From the ridge I had a fine side view of Nanga Parbat
straight in front of me. The proper name of this glorious
peak is Daia Mar — the name of a village, I was told, at its
base on the Chilas side. People say Daia Mar is inhabited
by D4os and Paris (genii and fairies), and the mountain
has a sacred character even among the Mahomedan popu-
lation. Every Friday the Chilasis wash themselves, put
on clean blue clothes, and go out to the mountain to watch
the fairies and genii disporting themselves on the crags
and precipices above. This tradition and custom must be
survivals of the old heathen time, before the sword of
Islam gathered these people under its flag. " Nanga
Parbat " cannot be an ancient name : probably it was
named by a Hindustani Hindu, camp follower with the
survey party that first took the bearings of the peak.
Kinchinjanga is a fine name for the highest mountain in
the world ; but " Nanga Parbat " for the third highest is
certainly bathos. The second highest, too, was badly
treated ; it blushed every morning at the indignity put
upon it by the G. T. Survey, who labelled it " K^ " fi^ |^i-)gjr

IBEX NOT AT HOME 123

maps. The amende, however, has since been made by
re-christening it with an Englishman's name — Godwin
Austen. I went up the stony ridge to L(5sar peak, where
a survey cairn had been erected — a bare pole sticking out
of it. This is where the ibex should have been, but were
not — bad luck to them! Their tracks in the snow,
droppings and hair about the rocks, were plentiful enough ;
but they were not at home, and at seven o'clock we came
down to camp. No bear was anywhere within sight, and
we overlooked a good many miles of country from our
points of vantage. I found the camp in a most awkward
spot on the steep hillside just below the ridge, and a thin
stream of water running past my blankets. The ground
was so steep that I found it difficult to eat my dinner in
any position.

Up at 5 A.M., and off to the ridge again, along which I
went towards the head of the valley, carefully searching
both the Hcint and Bagtour nalas. It was a splendid
morning; a bracing cold breeze swept along the open
downs, which were carpeted with flowers, especially a
yellow kind like the marigold ; they were so plentiful and
grew so thickly that I crushed a dozen of them at every
step. I enjoyed this morning's walk exceedingly, though
we saw nothing. The beauty of the scene so impressed
me, that a bear, had he come in sight, might have been
allowed to pass. Such surroundings are not conducive to
bloodthirsty thoughts. Suddenly we walked nearly over a
hen ram-chakor (the hen of the snow-cock) and her
brood of six chickens nestling among the flowers. The
chicks were fluffy, and half the size of my fist, but they
could run ; they ran a few yards, crouched, and disappeared
among the flowers. The mother, too, ran, but limped and
fluttered along in such helpless fashion that Jamala, the
breakfast coolie, bolted after her with outstretched hand,

124 BEAR SHOOTING

expecting to catch her at every step ; but she kept jusfc
beyond his reach, and, after a run of a hundred yards,
Jamala came up panting and looking very foolish — for the
hen mother was now following him ! Her stratafrem,
however, was unsuccessful, for our party was still standing
a few yards from her brood, A finer illustration of
maternal love overcoming natural timiditv could not be
imagined. The hen came within five yards and circled
round us with drooping wings and ruffled feathers, and
limping, the very picture of decrepitude, inviting capture
by a display of utter helplessness. Jamala this time was
not taken in, and we all stood motionless in sym-
pathetic admiration, my companions exclaiming, " Suhhdn
Allah ! Sahlidn Allah !" (Praise to God ! Praise to God ! )
When these manoeuvres failed to move us, the hen settled
on the ground, raked up a cloud of dust, fluttered her
wings, and clucked for her chicks to come under protection ;
but by this time the chickens had run farther down the
hillside and were out of hearing. We left her still calling
for them. Farther on we came across the tracks of an
enormous stag that must have passed over the bed of snow
on the previous evening ; his head would be a splendid
trophy four mouths hence. Sharafa then spied, on the
opposite side of the Hant valley, a bear coming down to
the forest for his mid-day rest. We determined to visit
him in the evening, so turned down into that valley, and
waited for him to show up on the opposite slopes ; but the
bear never appeared, so we walked down to the Hant
stream to camp for the night.

When a short distance from our camping-place, a bear
suddenly rushed down the opposite hillside out of a clump
of birches, hunted by a hill - crow, just as though the
crow, seeing our approach, hunted the bear out to have
him shot. This was certainly the bear we had been

A PAINFUL STALK t2

3

watching for all day, but he had kept under cover until long
after the usual hour. The crow had been hovering about
the birch clump and cawing for some time : suddenly he
made a dash down among the trees, and out rushed the
bear, the crow almost touching his back. A pair of these
hill-crows were, as usual, attending on us. This bird must
have reasoned that until the bear showed himself there
would be no meat, so drove him out ! The coolies at once
squatted, and the stalk began. The first thing to do was
to get under cover, and this could be effected only by going
down to the bed of the stream below the bear. So we
went slowly and cautiously, for we were within full sight of
the game — he could not have been more than five hundred
yards away. Every time he put his head down to eat or
dig, we dashed along a few paces, falling flat the moment
he looked up. The hill was steep and stony, and slushy
from melted snow, but we got safely to the bank, and soon
crossed. Then began a most exciting stalk : the bear was
a short distance up the hillside, but could not be seen till
we were within a couple of hundred yards of him. Our
movements had to be slow and cautious, and when he was
sighted we had to crawl on our stomachs, watching the
bear, and stretching ourselves flat whenever he raised his
head. At last we reached a rock about seventy yards
from him, and were in position, but I was thoroughly done
and my nerves completely upset. In this state I had to
fire, and at once : of course I made a bad shot, wounding
the bear low down in the fore leg. He rushed to our left
front and then straight up hill — three snap-shots at long
ranges were misses also. We gave chase, and had a rough
climb for some distance up and along the hillside for half
a mile, through forest, rocks, and rank vegetation, but had
to give up at last, as the bear was going fast and it was
getting dark. We returned and examined the place where

126 BEAR SHOOTING

he had been feeding. The bullet must have broken his
fore leg a little above the paw. I was disgusted with
myself — less because I had lost the bear than because I
had wounded the poor beast and allowed him to escape.
No doubt he would recover from the wound, but it was an
uncomfortable thought that he had been put to unnecessary
pain. He was a small animal, little more than half-grown.
Off at five o'clock next morning, with Ghaffar, the local
man, and down the stream for some distance, across a
snow-bridge and up the left side of the valley. I saw many
fresh traces of bears when we got above the forest-line and
on the grassy hill slopes, and I made certain of sighting
Bruin as we topped each swell of the undulating mountain
side, but met disappointment instead. As we emerged
from the forest and came on to the flowery meads, two
hinds rushed out from amongst the trees and passed in
front of us, not more than a hundred yards away. Two
crows had been cawing and flying about the forest in the
direction from which these animals came ; I suspected
they were driven out by these very sporting birds, as the
bear had been last evening. The hinds went up the slope
for a bit, and then stopped on our left front and a little
above us ; they were not more than a hundred yards off,
but had not seen us as we crouched in the lonGf grass.
One was smaller than the other, and seemed inclined to
romp with her companion, but the latter was too intent on
her morning meal to join in the game. Their grey sides,
groomed by nature's hand, shone again in the morning sun,
and flashed back his rays like a mirror at every movement.
They did not see us for some time, and were entirely at
their ease : it was a pretty sight. Ghaffar Bat said,
" Shoot one for meat " — the beast ! — when I could see
their sides heaving with each breath and the sunlight
rippling on the glossy flanks. Ghaffar got so excited at last

IRRITATING FLIES 127

that lie pointed his stick like a guu at them, and the
movement caught the eye of the larger hind at once. She
threw lip her slender neck, gazed at us intently for a
moment, then dashed away, her companion following.

We went along the meadows for some distance, but
saw nothing, and at length put up for the day in the
highest clump of pines and birches, on a grassy slope, with
a deep watercourse close by. The flies here were an
intolerable nuisance ; in a short time I had several wounds
on my hands, drops of blood oozed from them, and they
became very itchy. The fly was a very tiny one as to
body, but he had a large head. I was driven at last to
shut up my pocket-book and put on my woollen gloves.
While I was lying with my eyes closed, I heard a pitter-
patter close behind ; turning round, I discovered that I had
been nearly run over by a musk-deer. He came from
below, and must have been disturbed by something, as it
was the hottest hour of the day, and game never move at
this time. I made sure it was the crows who were beating
up the forest again for my (and their) benefit. The two
had been flying about all the morning in our vicinity,
and, when we came to a halt, posted themselves below us,
and kept up a loud and disagreeable cawing for several
hours. The musk-deer having arrived, the crows followed
immediately after. This is the third time in this valley
that I have noticed the strange conduct of these birds ; it
surely could not be mere coincidence. I could plainly see
design in their manoeuvres, and that design was to have
animals shot. How disgusted they must have been at my
failure !

In the evening, on the way back, we discovered a bear's lair
at the foot of an enormous pine ; there was a large round
depression in the ground, where he had evidently slept for
several nights; his droppings round about were plentiful.

128 BEAR SHOOTING

but he himself was not at home. Probably he had winded
or heard us in the morning.

I had fired my last shot on this trip, and what a sad
miss I had made of my last bear-stalk ! Wounding that
bear still lay heavy on my conscience ; I felt it more than
any other mishap that had befallen me during this tramp.

We camped next night near a bed of snow that
had a tiny lake at its lower edge. The green grassy
slopes about this bit of water were the favourite napping-
places of vultures ; we disturbed numbers of them lying
about when we came up, and their feathers were scattered
in every direction. It was a delightfully green little spot ;
a bracing breeze was blowing over it, and the omnipresent
hill-crow was sailing around as I sat writing my notes.

This was our last evening at these altitudes, 10,000
feet — I had not been lower for nearly two months.

In three days I was back again in Bandpiira, and was
received with salvoes of thunder and brilliant flashes of
lightning.

PART II

SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO, TIBET

CHAPTER IX

THE rROVINCE OF LADAKH, AND THE WAY THITHER

The happy hunting ground of the Englishman— How he takes his sport-
General description of the country— Start from Lahore— Road as far as
Sultanpur— The transport difficulty- My travelling kit— Details of
arrangements— Chamurti, my Tibetan pony— Fifteen coolie-loads for a
six months' trip— The Kulu valley— Englishmen settled there— Flying-
foxes— Destruction caused by them— Game in Kulu almost entirely
destroyed— A sporting tour round the Kulu valley— The Ralah bunga-
low—Crossing the Rotang— Native servants— Chamurti's pranks— My
spirits rise with the elevation— Koksar bungalow— Reach Kailang.

Ladakh has been the happy hunting ground of the English-
man for nearly half a century. From the time when Gerard
and Cunningham first explored its virgin valleys to the
present day, our fellow-countrymen have year after year
sought the various routes to those high table-lands. They
have searched its remotest corners in pursuit of the large
game of the country, and have shot them at elevations
which far exceed that of the monarch of European
mountains. To obtain six months' release from his duties
for a sporting tour in Ladakh is the summit of the big-
9

130 THE PROVINCE OF LADAKH

game hunter's ambition. Until he has shot his tiger in
the hot and steaming forests of the plains, and his Ovis
ammon at 15,000 feet above sea level, he considers that
he has not accomplished his manifest destiny.

The natural boundaries of the province of Ladakh are
the Karakoram and Kuen-Luu on the north, with Chinese
Turkestan beyond ; the political frontier dividing it from
Tibet on the east ; the British districts of Spiti-Lahour
and the independent States of Chumba on the south ;
Kashmir and its sub-province, Baltistan, on the west.
Pioughly speaking, within these limits is contained an
extent of country two hundred miles in length and the
same in breadth, at an average valley elevation of 14,000
feet above the sea. The Indus, for nearly three hundred
miles of its course from S.E. to N.E., cuts the province
exactly in halves. Its principal tributary is the Shyok
river, which, after a most devious course of nearly two
hundred and fifty miles, falls into the Indus on the
western border. The Zanskar and Dras are minor
tributaries.

The mountain ranges drained by the above water system
are the Karakoram barrier as to its southern slopes, whose
waters are collected by the Shyok ; the Gangri or Kailas
range, which starts from the Mansarowar lake in Tibet,
and ends in the angle which is formed by the junction of
the Shyok with the Indus. This remarkable range has a
length of four hundred miles, the greater portion of which,
almost in a straight line, runs along the right bank of the
Indus, dividing the Shyok and its tributaries from the
former. On the left bank of the river there is no well-
defined or continuous range comparable to the Kailas. On
the south-east are the great plateaux of Eupshii and their
lakes ; farther west are the steep and lofty mountains of
Zanskar; and beyond them the ranges enclosing the Sorii

DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY 131

and Dras valleys. These are the north-eastern spurs of
the great Himalayan buttress facing the Indian plains.

Let the traveller or sportsman take his stand at Leh,
the capital of the province, and the only town within its
borders, and face north. Before him, across the high
ridges of the Ivailas that overtop his standpoint, is the
district of Nubra ; to the north-east is the Chang-chen-mo
valley ; and beyond them, again, the elevated and dreary
Lingzi thang, or Lingzi plains ; to the west he has the
great Pangong lake — the longest stretch of still water in
Tibet ; south-east flows the Indus ; directly south are the
high plateaux of Paipshii — the highest inhabited portion
of the globe; north-west is rugged Zanskar — the exact
antithesis of its neighbour Paipshii ; west are the valleys of
Sorii and Dras. The circle is complete : Leh is, as nearly
as possible, in the centre, with a radius of one hundred
miles all round.

This condensed description of the country I was about
to visit, and in whose eastern extremity I intended to
shoot, will give a sufficiently detailed view of the outlying
province of Kashmir. Pieference can be made to standard
authors for further details.

The first stage of my present journey is so well known
and is so frequented a route, that the sooner we get over
it the better. I went from Lahore to Pathankot by rail ;
thence it is twelve marches to Sultanpiir, the headquarters
of the Kulii subdivision of the Kangra district. There is
a cart-road as far as Palampiir (six marches), and a good
riding-road for the remaining six. A tonga dak runs as
far as the latter place, and there are staging bungalows
along the whole route, some pleasant and comfortable,
others just the reverse. The pleasantest is the Jhatingri
bungalow (ninth stage), and the worst Karaun (beyond the
Babbi'i Pass). This pass is 10,000 feet above sea level.

132 THE PROVINCE OF LADAKH

between the tenth and eleventh marches. At Shahpur
the traveller enters the tea country, and his road leads him
through miles of gardens. From Dharamsala to a point
several miles beyond Baijnath, a distance of thirty miles,
he can hardly travel half a mile without skirting tea-
gardens — trim and well cared for if under European
management ; the reverse if under the control of the son
of the soil. The soothing eftect of these pleasant
surroundings is mightily enhanced by the sighing of the
wind through the pines and the delicious rose-scented air^
for the bridle-path is hedged in by rose-bushes in full
bloom. Palarapiir (sixth stage) is the headquarters of
the tea industry in the Kangra district.

I found my travelling kit and servants awaiting me at
Pcilampur, and after a halt of two days made my first
onward march. Before going any farther, it may be as
well to give some particulars of my arrangements for so
long a journey, for the benefit of those who may follow in
my footsteps. Be it known, then, that the difficulty of
procuring carriage at all stages on the roads in the
Kangra district is the most temper-trying obstacle one
encounters. The authorities, in their wisdom, have
decreed that no carriage of any description shall be
available without due notice at each stage, and the re-
sponsible suppliers of the same have passed another decree
that it shall never be available at the time fixed. Former
experience had acquainted me with the innumerable diffi-
culties connected with transport, and I was resolved on
this occasion to be entirely independent of local carriage.
I therefore hired six mules at Amritsar, and sent them on
with my travelling kit to Palampiir. I entered into a
formal agreement with the owners to carry me right
through, from the beginning to the end of my journey ;
and in trying, by this arrangement, to avoid one set of

:sIY TRAVELLING KIT 133

difficulties, I fell into auother, which nearly wrecked my
expedition before I had been a month on the road. But
it answered admirably while I was within the limits of the
Kangra district, and I enjoyed a most independent, free,
and easy life. I would recommend all tourists who con-
template a tramp in these parts to follow my example in
this matter of carriage; it will relieve them of all the
petty troubles which would otherwise await them at each
stage of the journey — irritating annoyances that entirely
mar the pleasure of the outing. My caravan consisted of
six mules, two muleteers, three servants, and myself. For
the mules I had three pairs of leather trunks made up out
of blue bull-hides, from animals I had shot at various times
in the plains. This was an excellent arrangement; the
trunks were light and strong, most capacious, and withstood
admirably the roughest usage. Two of them were a light
load for a mule, and between them, on the mule's back,
another load of bedding, etc., could be secured. A mule
could be loaded up, ready for a start, in five minutes.
Each box was a fair load for a coolie. I had several pairs
of boots and shoes made after a pattern of my own from
other blue bull-hides. This supply lasted me and my
servants for the whole trip, and for some time afterwards.
With a liberal application of " dubbin " now and then, they
were thoroughly waterproof, and, with screws in the soles,
gave firm footing on the hill slopes : the cost of making up
was trifling. I also used my black buckskins to make up
a dozen bags — one bag out of each skin — in the shape of
the usual canvas clothes bag, but narrower. Some were
used for carrying the servants' things ; and when supplies
had to be carried for several days, they answered admirably
for carrying flour, rice, sugar, etc. Three other skins I
had made into rucksacks, after the Swiss pattern ; these
were most useful when away from camp after game. They

134 THE PROVINCE OF LADAKH

can be filled up to any extent, and were comfortably carried
in the usual way by a coolie over the worst ground. In
this manner I used up the skins and hides I had collected
during many expeditions in the plains. Good shoemakers,
to make up these things, can be found in any large station ;
they are very handy in turning out anything required, if
properly instructed. I obtained some manilla rope and
cords from Calcutta ; they are practically indestructible,
and are most handy for tying up mule loads. The want
of a stout cord in the mountains is a most serious hindrance,
and sometimes causes the greatest inconvenience and delay.
A small supply will always be useful, but a sharp look-out
must be kept on the porters who carry it, for they will
invariably walk off with cords when relieved by a fresh
set. My tents were two patent " ridgeless " from Cawn-
pore, made of tan waterproof drill. This is a most handy
pattern ; they were thoroughly waterproof, and withstood
the furious gales of the Tibetan plateaux most efficiently ;
they were exceedingly light, just a coolie-load each. I
must not forget my Chamiirti pony — a handy little grey
under thirteen hands, and as sure-footed as a goat. I
bought him at the Eampur fair, beyond Simla, for 150
rupees. He was at first almost as shy as the wild sheep
of his mountain home, but after a time became tame as
a spaniel, and followed me during my long tramp like the
most faithful of dogs. The only drawback about him
was that he had to be shod, and shoeing could not be done
in most of the places I visited. In consequence, his hoofs
got worn when he lost his shoes, and he walked very
gingerly along the stony valleys of Tibet. But he saved
me many a weary trudge in the long stages of my journey,
and his tricks and friskiness made him a most amusing
companion.

The six mules and Chamurti, as I called my purchase.

THE KULU VALLEY 135

were the only animals I took. My traps, iucluding stores,
gun-cases, etc., were easily taken by the mules ; I should
say that there were about fifteen coolie-loads — the calcula-
tion was made for a six months' trip. I need not go into
further detail : the excellent advice given in The Sportsman's
Vadc Mecum for the Himalayas cannot be improved upon.
That compact book should be in the baggage of every
Himalayan traveller, whether sportsman or not.

I reached Sultanpur on the 28 th May. The Kiilu
valley is well known to tourists, as during the season it
is constantly visited by parties from Simla, though the
inconveniences placed in the way of travellers, not only in
this portion of the Kangra district, but every other part,
are enough to choke off any less enterprising individual
than the travelling Englishman. Three marches (thirty-
two miles) from Sultanpiir, along a good road very much
frequented by tourists, brought me to Ealah, a small rest-
house at the foot of the Eotang Pass. Between these two
places, one passes the estates of several gentlemen, who
have settled permanently in this most pleasant valley.
For many years they have been engaged in tea-planting ;
but Kulu is so much out of the way, and so distant from
the markets, that the occupation has not been profitable.
Though the tea produced is of the most delicious flavour,
its yield is not abundant, owing to the altitude of the
valley and the severe winters. During the last few years
a new departure has been made in the growing of fruit,
which gives a much better return than tea, though this
occupation also has its drawbacks, the markets being too
far distant for such a perishable commodity ; and flying-
foxes, which commit great devastation during the nights,
cannot be kept off the trees when the fruit is ripening.
They probably destroy more than fifty per cent, of the crop.
These pests come every evening in thousands, remain in

i-,6 THE PROVINCE OF LADAKH

the gardens during the night, and return before morning to
their retreats in the lower parts of the Kangra district — at
least fifty miles in a direct line of flight. Human ingenuity
has not yet invented means of protecting the fruit from
them. It is well known that flying-foxes travel enormous
distances in search of food, and this is a case in point.
Sterndale, in his Mammalia of India (p. 39), says that these
bats are exceedingly strong on the wing. One of these
animals boarded the steamer he was on when it was more
than two hundred miles from land. Their depredations
seriously affect the planters' profits. If nothing can be
done to prevent them, the flying-foxes may, in the end,
ruin the industry entirely. Another serious drawback is
the uncertain climate during the fruit season, w^hen severe
storms are frequent. Tlie principal market is in Simla,
where Kulii pears, apples, and peaches have established a
good reputation for themselves ; but the cost of, and
accidents during, carriage over so many miles of mountain
road, on the backs of coolies, are grave considerations. In
addition to these must be added the very probable con-
tingency, that fruit-gardens in and about Simla will so
undersell the Kulu fruits that the latter, in the end, will
lose its most paying market. If a manufactory of jams
and jellies could be started in the valley, a good trade
might result, but sugar cannot be produced on the spot.
The experiment of growing sugar-cane is, I believe, being
tried, but the inevitable heavy cost of carriage would again
probably swallow up the profits. Though Kulu may not
be a money-making country, it is, without doubt, a perfect
paradise for the European with a small competency, who
wants a quiet place, with a perfect climate, beautiful
surroundings, and cheap living, in which to end his days.
Probably, with very few exceptions, this was the intention
of those who settled here and made Kiilii their home.

GAME IN KULU ALMOST DESTROYED 137

The valley has a great reputation as a game country. I
have had some experience of it, but cannot say that it now
affords that return to the enterprising sportsman which he
obtained some years ago. The native of the country is
sportively inclined, — in more senses than one, — and licences
for owning and using a gun can be had from the resident
Civil Official for the asking. A former Lieutenant-
Governor of the Panjiib spent his hot youth on these
pleasant slopes, and did not forget his proteges when he
came back, after several years as governor of the province.
During his rule they were specially favoured ; they were
freed from the oppression of the begar (forced labour)
system of supplying carriage, and were allowed to have as
many sporting firearms as they liked. The result, as
regards game, was disastrous : game birds and animals are
persecuted all the year round. In severe winters, when
the snowfall is heavy and animals cannot escape, they are
surrounded by gangs of villagers, driven into deep snow,
and then clubbed to death : a few years ago, when there
was an unusually severe winter, the slaughter was immense.
It is not possible that the game of Kiilu will ever recover
from this blow, and the reputation of the valley as a game
country may be considered at an end. Bears, of course,
can still be had in a few valleys, but that is a kind of
sport that soon palls. The Himalayan hunter now passes
along the road by double marches ; he makes no halt, but
presses on to the grounds beyond the Eotang Pass.

Though the shooting in the valley is practically nil,
good sport may yet be had in the huge ranges of mountains
that surround it — always provided that the sportsman does
not expect to make " record " bags.

The small, dirtv, uncomfortable little bungalow at
IJalah is well situated to give one the blues. It is a lath-
and - plaster affair, built in the roughest manner ; the

138 THE PROVINCE OF LADAKH

furniture is of the most primitive kind, and filthy to a
degree, while evil smells have a permanent residence.
The Beas river roars a short distance below, though only a
couple of miles from its source — a very lusty infant
indeed.

The hanging forests in view are the only redeeming
feature, but they are not an annexe of the bungalow. A
few hundred yards up the stream is a fine waterfall,
spanned by a glorious rainbow when the sun gets a
chance to light up the spray. This is not a frequent
occurrence, as Ealah is a dreadfully rainy place ; all my
recollections of it are damped by deluges of rain. On
the present occasion I was obliged to wait here two days
till the weather cleared up sufficiently to allow us to cross
the pass. The mule men made the request for a halt, and
during the day went up to see how the snow was lying and
whether the road was passable for their animals : it
appeared that the usual annual repairs to the road had not
yet been begun, though it was the first of June. There
were several camps about the bungalow during my stay,
and sheep, donkeys, and ponies were straying all over the
place ; they too had been stopped by the bad weather.

The mule meu, after making a survey, came back and
reported the road passable ; so we started at four o'clock
in the morning of the 3rd June for the passage of the
Iiotang. The first accident occurred when we had been on
the road an hour : one of the mules went over the side of
the road and fell down a steep slope. His load — two of
the leather trunks — went down much farther than he did,
but no damage whatever was done either to the mule or
the contents of the boxes. As we ascended higher, the
patches of snow became more frequent, and the mules
slipped about a good deal, but no accident happened, only
great delay. We reached the crest of the pass at niue, had

NATIVE SERVANTS 139

breakfast, and started again. The snow-bed on the Lahoul side
was continuous, and by this time had become softened by the
sun's rays ; the mules were continually sinking and falling,
and we came to a standstill at last in a bad place. All
the loads had to be taken off and carried down a few
hundred yards by the five coolies whom I had fortunately
brought with me to assist. The made road could not be
seen anywhere ; it was entirely obliterated by the snow.
Most of the packages had to be pushed down the snowy
slopes. To add to our misfortunes, sleet came on, and a
piercingly cold wind. The syce in charge of the pony, a
Panjilbi Mahomedan, had never seen snow before, and
this was his first experience of a snowy pass. He had
been toiling up the ascent in a very sad frame of mind,
invoking " Shcldtji " at every step. He had served as an
attendant on the tonga dak in the plains, and was
a stout lump of a man, and, as he was used to horses, I was
induced to take him on in preference to the usual class of
Hindu syce, as all my marching establishment were of the
other religion. This is another tip for travellers and
sportsmen : your servants should all be of one caste or
religion. They will pull better together, and their impedi-
menta will not be so awkward to carry.

Kallu, the groom, had followed me down the slide with
the pony, the latter having cleverly negotiated the passage
by sliding down on his haunches. The syce, being now on
the right side of the difficulty, took advantage of his
position to poke fun at his companion, the cook, who
usually made the dull-witted Kallu the butt of his caustic
remarks. The latter now had his revenge ; he invited his
friend to have a ride free, gratis, all for nothing, and was
immensely delighted to see him come down the slide wrong
side up, for the unfortunate man lost his balance before he
had gone two yards. Chamurti was quite at home as

I40 THE PROVINCE OF LADAKH

soon as his hoofs touched the familiar snow. He had been
on the level plains for more than six months, and now
greeted his old surroundings with exuberant joy : I am
sure he was the only one of the party who felt at home
during the passage of the Eotang. His first performance
was to grab mouthfuls of snow and munch it with evident
relish, to the horror of his keeper. When he reached the
top he capered about like a goat, escaped from Kallu's
control, and had a most enjoyable roll, saddle and all, in
the snow — a freak which resulted in the loss of his curb-
chain. He was altogether too frisky to be led on the way
down, and I was obliged at last to free him from the syce's
leading-rope, after which he generally kept with the mules
when I was not on his back. He would follow me or his
attendant like a dog, but became quite disagreeable when
an attempt was made to lead him. On the present
occasion, as the pony skipped about on the snowy slopes of
the Eotang, and Kallu stood on the path (the only place
where he could keep his feet), they put me in mind of the
mother-hen when her ducklings first disport in the water :
Kallii, doubtless thinking the pony would break his neck
during some of his capers, shouted the most endearing
terms to coax him back, but he never ventured off the
pathway himself.

We reached the Koksar bungalow at two, the journey
across the broad back of the mountain having taken five
hours for the ascent, and the same for the descent ! The
blue devils of Ealah had such a tight hold of me when I
left that place, that I really was on the point of giving up
my expedition and retracing my steps. I was thoroughly
convinced that I was not equal to the task of crossing the
pass, though I had done so more than once before ; but I
had not gone half-way up the ascent when my spirits
began to rise at every step, and I felt as lively almost as

KOKSAR BUNGALOW 141

the pony, and thoroughly enjoyed the rough work : there could
be no more strikmg proof of the wonderfully exhilarating
effect of mountain air and surroundings at an elevation of
13,000 feet. The Koksar bungalow is a windy place. A
regular Tibetan gale was blowing down the valley, and the
cold was much too bracing. The building itself was a
wooden one, very roughly put together, and the furniture
was in the same style. It is three marches from Koksar
to Kailang. The road winds along the foot of the Lahoul
mountains on the traveller's right hand, while on his left
the mud-coloured Chandra river, at varying distances from
the road, rushes down to its junction with the Bhaga at
the village of Tanda. There is nothing for the sportsman
to do along this portion of the route but admire small
bits of scenery here and there, and push along as fast as
possible. The distance to Kailang is about thirty-two
miles, divided into three marches ; there are no bungalows.
Mules can do the distance easily in two days. The
mountain range across the Chandra is the one mentioned
before, along which good bear and ibex shooting can be
obtained ; a good length of it can be viewed from this road.
The Lahoul mountains on the right contain ibex ; but
they are difficult to find, and it is not worth wasting time
after them when the sportsman is bound for more distant
hunting grounds. Thirty years ago ibex were shot from
the road by the infrequent traveller ; but the beasts have
now been educated into a better appreciation of the Express
rifle. In the winter months, however, they can still be
found close by ; but I should say very few men would
undertake a six months' sojourn in such a (literally)
howling wilderness as this valley must be at that time of
the year.

CHAPTER X

THE JOUENEY TO LADAKH

Kailang — Unavoidable delay — A difference in temperature — The Moravian
Mission — Thaknr Hari Singh — His travels — Lahonli Buddhists — The
district of Lahoul — A sporting trip recommended — Resume the
march — The last villages — A pass into Zanskar — The fall of a mountain
on a village — Patsio annual fair and market — Filthy surroundings —
Put up a bridge — Rather unsuccessfully — Zingzingbar — Halt at Choteu-
rong-jeun — A cold camping-place — Bad weather begins— Collapse of
Indian servants — Alter my plaus — Mules and servants dispensed with
— Two Lamas turn up.

Kailang is the headquarters of the subordinate magistrate
in charse of Lahoul, and of the Moravian Mission to the
Tibetans. A halt must be made here for the coolies,
supplies and fuel, for nothing can be procured between
Kailang and Eokchen in Paipshii, ten marches away.
I was consequently delayed here for three days.
Thakur Hari Chand, the Magistrate and Tehsildar (sub-
collector) of Lahoul, a very respectful little man with a
cough, was most obliging, and did his best to please me ; but
the people of the country have their own way of doing
things which involves, according to my experience, a terrible
waste of time. The weather also was unpropitious. It
beo-an to snow on the morning of the 6th June, and then
to rain. The bad weather continued till the evening of
the 7th. During this day the thermometer recorded 48°

142

THE MORAVIAN MISSION 143

inside the house and 38^ outside — a temperature to which
one is not accustomed in the month of June ; a hundred
miles away, down in the plains, these figures would have
to be multiplied by three to get the proper feel of the
weather. The 8th was a clear dry day, and fresh snow
could be seen on all the hills around. This bit of bad
weather luckily came when I was comfortably housed; it
would have been awful in a tent. No coolies or supplies
arrived on the 9th. The Thakur had collected some from
the villages adjacent, and promised to hurry up the rest
after me, so I made a start, and marched to Ki'ilang.

Before going any farther, I had better finish my say
about Lahoul, and give some details of the shooting to be
obtained there. The Moravian Mission has been estab-
lished here, I believe, for more than forty years ; it is in a
most flourishing condition now, and, under the charge of its
present head, the venerable and amiable pastor, Mr. Heyde,
will continue to flourish in years to come. Venerable is a
misleading term to apply to this gentleman, whose fresh
face and robust frame, full of the energy of strong vitality,
belie the word entirely ; but I should be sorry to make a
guess at his age.

Thakur Hari Singh, the local magistrate, was very
communicative. He knows a great deal of the geography
of Tibet, and gave me a very interesting account of his
travels. He has been all over Ladakh with Philip Egerton,
a former Deputy Commissioner of Kiingra, who sent him
on a mission to Gartokh in Tibet to open trade com-
munication between the two countries. When he arrived
there he got the stereotyped answer : " It was a new
custom, and they could not allow entry into their country ;
it was against orders," etc. The Thakur accompanied Sir
Douglas Forsyth in his mission to Yarkand, and was a
great help to him during that trying journey. The

144 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

inhabitants of Lalioul, he says, are Kanaits — the same
people who are found in the Knlii valley : there are no
true Tibetans here. These Kanaits are Buddhists now,
and their priests, even, belong to the same caste as the
people. Many centuries ago the Eajah of Guge in Tibet
conquered Lahoul, and converted the people to Buddhism.
The Tibetan Lamas remained in the country some time,
but gradually died out, and now not one real Tibetan
Buddhist priest is to be found in the country. Guru
Gantal, at the confluence (" Preag " in Hindi, " Sumdo " in
Tibetan) of the Chandra and Bhaga rivers, some distance
below Kailang, is the largest monastery in Lahoul. On
Hari Chand's recommendation I engaged a man named
Sarap, belonging to a village across the Bhaga, as inter-
preter, guide, and general help. He was well acquainted
with the country and routes in Ladakh, and had
accompanied Sir Douglas Forsyth and Mr. Ptussell during
their journey to Yarkand ; he had also frequently
accompanied sportsmen through various parts of the
country. I did not discover what a thorough-paced rascal
this man was till I was well beyond the passes that divide
Lahoul from Ladakh, but his character was revealed to
me as I got on.

A few hints, now, regarding the shooting in Lahoul.
This district may be described as a triangular piece of
country, with two sides, fifty miles in length each, and the
third about thirty. At the three angles are situated,
(1) the Baralcicha Pass ; (2) Shigri " camp " on the Chandra,
where this river takes a sharp bend ; (3) the large village
of Tanda at the junction of the two rivers. Within these
boundaries rises a tremendous knot of snowy mountains,
round the bases of which the sportsman can spend a couple
of pleasant months, though he must not be too sure of
making a satisfactory bag. The best plan would be to

THE DISTRICT OF LAHOUL 145

proceed straight to the Baralacha Pass and thence begin
operations, travelling down slowly from the sources of
that stream as far as the angle at Shigri — a distance of,
say, fifty miles. Sheep-tracks will be found all along the
stream, but it will depend upon the time of the year
whether he can shoot along the ground on loth sides of
the river, as in many places it may not be fordable.
Proceeding down, he will have the whole of Tibet on his
left, — the Tso Morari lake about one hundred miles off as
the crow flies ; but he should not be tempted to make an
excursion in that direction : he should stick to the matter
in hand, and thoroughly explore the Lahoul mountains.
About fifteen miles above Shigri he will reach the
Chandradal, a lake just below the Kangzam Pass leading
into Spiti. At Shigri itself he will be confronted with the
well-known glacier of that name. All along his line of
march he will find ibex and, perhaps, barhal on his left, if
he can get off the beaten track a little, and if the time of
the year is favourable. At the end of his tramp, above
and below Shigri, he will meet brown bear. After turning
the corner, he will have Koksar, about twenty-five miles,
before him, under the Eotang and the Hamta Pass leading
into Kulii, on his left. Ibex and bear will be found on
the slopes. From Shigri to old Koksar is a well-known
shooting ground ; but it is so close to the main road that
it is pretty well shot over, especially by local sportsmen :
if this has been done lately, no time should be wasted
searching for game.

The above is the longest shooting tour that can be made
in Lahoul : it is well worth trying. The other two sides
of the triangle are traversed by the commercial road to
Leh, and game has been driven away from it for years
past — that is to say, during the season open to the
sportsmen. The extent of the bag will depend a good deal
10

146 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

on the time of year : early in the season or late in
the season are the only periods that he should choose.
That means June to July, or September to October. The
reason is that thousands and thousands of sheep, with
their shepherds and watch-dogs, work their way gradually
up the slopes of the valleys leading from the lower ranges
of Mandi, Kangra, and Chamba to the highest spurs of the
Himalayan buttress, and cross it. As these innumerable
flocks graze upwards, the game recedes before them, and is
driven and scattered gradually into such inaccessible
ground that following them up there is not worth the
trouble. The sheep reach their farthest points in July
and August, and then begin their return journey. This is
the course that is followed year after year. The sportsman
must take note of it, and so arrange the trip as to keep in
front of the flocks in the beginning of the season, or reach
the grounds towards the end, after they have left. One of
the farthest points reached by these nomads is the knot
of mountains in Lahoul.

The road to Kulang, the first march from Ivailang, is a
gradual ascent, but near the former village descends to
the river level, where the Bhaga is yet a considerable
stream. The hills on either side are barren and rocky,
capped with snow here and there, with a little vegetation
fringing their feet, which are washed by the river. A
couple of small glaciers are in sight above the village of
Tinnii on the left bank. Cypress-trees are frequent on
the slopes, and willows in the cultivated parts : the latter
are planted, and are, I suppose, private property ; it is a
valuable timber-tree in this treeless country, and is used
in a variety of ways for domestic purposes. The valley
narrows gradually, and the view is greatly contracted by
dark and frowning mountains on every side : this stage is
uninteresting. Travellers generally make a double march

A PASS INTO ZANSKAR 147

from Kailang, and get over as great a distance as possible
after the enforced halt of several days ; but I was hampered
by the non-arrival of my coolies and supplies, and had to
go slowly to let them come up. Next day I made Dtircha,
eight miles. The village is on the opposite side of the
river. The streams that flow in on either side of the
Bhaga were considerable in volume, showing that the
snows now felt the power of the sun. A path into
Zanskar (Jaskar, according to local usage) leads up it by
the Shiugo-la (wood-pass), at its head. The pass
derives its name from the fact that wood for fuel can be
obtained along that route : such a rare occurrence in this
woodless country is fuel ! A sportsman went up this way
a month ago because the Baralacha was not then passable ;
so the Shingo-la must be a lower pass. It is a four days'
journey from this point to the first village in Zanskar
beyond the pass. If the traveller cannot cross back by
the Morang-la, he has no alternative but to march down
the Zanskar river until he strikes the high road from
Kashmir to Leh. The Zanskar mountains, when you are
once in the valley of its main stream, present such a
formidable barrier all around that there is no exit at all
on the right towards Ladakh ; and only a couple of very
difficult passes on the left towards Chamba and Kashmir.
The early traveller is therefore liable to be led into a trap
if he tries to double round the passes on the regular route :
it all depends upon the snowfall of the previous winter.
The gentleman who took this route I met subsequently at
Eokchen ; he found no insuperable difficulties, and had a
good time among the Zanskar ibex. Perhaps the man
who attempts the same journey next year may have an
experience just the reverse.

The stream which joins the Bhaga on its left bank
•drains the knot of Lahoul mountains on that side. All

148 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

the ndUis in this direction have been shot out long ago,
and the sportsman should not be tempted to waste his
time among them, whatever stories local shikaris may
tell him. Just at this confluence, by my camp, a part of
the mountain on the right bank of the Bhaga had fallen
upon the angle formed by the two streams. The vast
masses fell and spread out all over that part of the land,
and were scattered about in the wildest confusion. A
small village which occupied the site was completely
overwhelmed, and not a soul escaped ; even all the fields
belonging to the place were blotted out. This disaster
must have occurred centuries ago, as the existing face of
the mountain now shows no signs of the disruption, nature
and weather having effaced all traces of it. There is a
huge gap in the mountain side (now covered up with soil
and grass), out of which this mass of rock must have fallen.
The coolies and supplies having arrived at last, I was free
to move onward. The next stage is Patsio (11 miles).
Darcha is the largest village, that is, human habitation
with walls and a roof, I shall see till I get to Shushal,
three weeks hence ; and no supplies will be procurable
till Eokchen is reached — eight marches ahead. I laid in
supplies for twenty days — also fuel ; we were therefore on
the safe side. The road was in very bad repair ; for the
latter half of the stage it had been carried away by the
melting snow. It took us five and a half hours to do the
distance. Patsio is the place where the great annual fair
is held : traders from both directions meet here and
exchange their goods. The trade begins in July, and lasts
for a couple of months. The Tibetans bring their flocks
down here in thousands, carrying salt in little woollen
bags across the sheep's back ; the fleece is then sold and
sheared off on the spot ; the salt is disposed of at the
same time. Grain principally is taken in exchange, and

PUT UP A BRIDGE 149

carried back in the same way. Ponies come from Zanskar
and parts of Tibet, and nice little animals can be picked
up by anyone who chooses to stay and await his chance.
The grain and other goods are brought by Lahoulis from
below on their tattoos ; so, in the season, the surrounding
hills swarm with ponies, sheep, and goats. The pasturage
is splendid and sufficient, and the animals are soon in
condition after their enforced starvation during the winter
months. There are some huts here, but they were filthy
in the extreme, and the surrounding areas of level ground
were in the same condition. The whole place reeked with
sheep's dung, which lay several inches deep, wherever there
was a level spot. The turf was still very wet from the
melting snow ; no good camping ground could be found
anywhere, and my tent, perforce, had to be pitched next
the huts, in the midst of the dirt. As the usual Lahouli
gale of wind was blowing, everything was smothered in
the malodorous dust, which I breathed from the moment
I arrived, and of which I certainly ate a fair quantity with
my dinner. I amused myself in the evening by putting
up the bridge over the Bhaga at this place ; we found the
boards lying under the rocks close by, and the coolies
helped very willingly. The bridge has to be dismantled
every year, to prevent the snow from smashing it and the
river from carrying away the materials. In the afternoon
clouds came up, and the wind reached a furious gale before
evening. Ugly rocky hills surround this place, and patches
of snow lie in the clefts. There are flats along the river as
far as one could see, and a flush of rich grass was visible
just above the surface, making these little plains very
refreshing to the eyes tired of rugged mountains. Sheets
of flowers relieve the sameness of the tender green ; but as
yet they hardly showed above the surface.

Our engineering of the bridge was not of the best, for

I50 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

next morning, as the third mule was coming over, one of
the boards fell through, and the poor animal nearly followed.
The board was carried away by the river, and the rest of
the caravan had to ford the stream above the bridge — a
very cold and disagreeable job in the early morning. The
road as far as Zingzingbar (11 miles) was good and level:
we were now on the left bank of the stream. This place
is a collection of stone walls and a few roofless houses a
little distance above the river, and just under some striking
rocky peaks partly covered with snow. We halted here
till 4 P.M., as the weather looked threatening. The road
ascended to Choten-rong-jeiin with a gentle slope ; we
crossed by a bridge to the right bank again, and reached
the above place at 5.30 p.m. ; distance about three miles.
This is considered the foot of the pass, that is to say, the
highest point where camp can be made, for the snow from
here is continuous to the foot of the pass on the other
side. We had no protection of any kind, neither rocks,
walls, nor anything else, and no tents were pitched, as I
wished to make an early start before the sun softened the
snow. I slept in the open, under the lee of the grass
bundles that were brought up for the animals ; my
quarters were rather cold, but no fire could be made, as fuel
was precious and had to be husbanded carefully. The
thermometer marked about 40° at sundown, 34° shortly
after, and 32° before it got too dark to read it; then
everything began to freeze, and I turned in. Our troubles
began now — the biggest disaster that befell me on this
trip. When we started in the morning from Patsio, the
sun shone, and we were all light-hearted enough, notwitli-
standing the cold dip in the river ; but before we had
finished half the journey the clouds gathered, and bad
weather omens met us at every turn. The Lahoulis, who
knew what was coming, began to murmur ; they first

COLLAPSE OF INDIAN SERVANTS 151

wished to return, then they clung lovingly about the roof-
less walls of Zingzingbar, and had certainly very sad hearts
when they were driven onwards. The mule men, too,
were unwilling ; but my liver was in its right place at the
foot of this pass ; I felt no qualms, and no malingering was
allowed ; everyone had to make the best of a bad job.
My bed was laid on a patch of bare ground under cover
of the grass bundles, and my followers had similar quarters ;
I was better off as far as the bundles went — nothing more.

1 was too anxious for an early start to sleep, and my
companions were too cold ; so I had everyone up at

2 A.M., and we prepared for the ascent : the weather, how-
ever, was too threatening, and, instead of starting, we
all sat still, and in the end had to put the tents up to
protect ourselves. Heavy snow came on shortly after-
wards, and continued for six hours ; the sun came out
strono- at noon, and the tents were drv in an hour. But
at 4 P.M. it began to snow again, and shortly after sun
acrain for another hour. This alternation of snow and sun
was most tantalising, and kept my hopes going up and
down like the thermometer. My three Indian servants
collapsed during the day : the bitter cold wind and snowy
surroundings were too much for them — they simply lay
down in their tents and became torpid. Nothing would
rouse them : threats, coaxing, even hunger had no effect,
no sound escaped their lips : their faces had become as
black as charcoal, and their eyes were fixed in a meaning-
less stare.

It snowed during the whole night, and up to 9 a.m. next
day (14th June). The fall was very heavy, and in the
pass itself must have accumulated to a great depth. The
mules and ponies bolted during the night and sheltered
themselves under the roofless walls of Zingzingbar, and
some of the men followed their example. There was snow

152 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

again during most of the day. Under these circumstances
the firewood began to disappear rapidly, and I at once sent
men oft' to Darcha for a fresh supply. The servants were
so utterly helpless that they could not cook for me, and,
after existing on tea and biscuits as Ion" as nature
permitted, I was driven to cook for myself. The men them-
selves had not energy enough to take any nourishment ; they
lay like logs under all the blankets and warm things they
could put their hands on, I must say my appetite did not
suffer, and my spirits rose as the thermometer fell. The
condition of my followers, however, caused me anxiety, and I
long debated in my mind the wisdom of a backward move.
The next day was clear, and the crisis came : the servants
were manifestly unequal to any exertion whatever ; they had
had no food for three days, and looked most miserable —
black, shrivelled-up, shivering bits of humanity, I made
up my mind at last, and decided to send back my Indian
servants and mules, and push forward with the coolies and
ponies I had brought up from Kailang. I reduced my
traps to eighteen light loads, and there were twenty-five
coolies : the tattoos would carry the grass and fuel. The
mules, too, were in bad condition ; it was too early in the
season to cross these passes with them, and they would
certainly collapse farther on, in a situation perhaps beyond
help. I therefore made up my mind to free myself from
these encumbrances. I should certainly have a bad time
without any servants ; but I depended upon Sarap, who said
servants could be procured from Leh. When I announced
my intention, the countenances of the cook and syce lit up
with joy, but the third man, Yakiib, the smallest and
weakest of the three, but a Pathan and with the Pathan grit
in him, objected as strongly as his weak condition would
allow. He had suffered the worst, and was certainly the
least fit of the three ; but he flatly refused to return.

TWO LAMAS TURN UP 153

'• Yon can carry me like a bundle on a tattoo nntil I am
well again, or bury me on the roadside if I die, but I won't
go back," he said, and began to blubber. So I kept him,
certainly to my own great relief, and afterwards, through
the rest of my rough journey, to my great comfort. But
the other two were thorough Hindustani curs, as spiritless
as the pie-dogs of their country; they were only too eager
for the return journey. While busily engaged in making
these arrangements, two Ldmas came down the pass, and I
entertained them at four-o'clock tea. They had had a very
bad time on the other side of the pass, where they were
obliged to curl up in a cave for three days, and they had
not yet thawed sufficiently to be very intelligent — I could
not get much information out of them. Tliey belonged to
Eodokh, and were going on a pilgrimage to Tiloknath, below
the iunction of the Chandrabhaga. The evening was fine
and clear, but the icy wind from the snows blowing down
tlie valley doubled one up : no amount of warm clothing
could keep it away from the body ; shelter was the only
remedy.

CHAPTEE XI

THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH {continued)

We force the pass at last — Yakub in a bad way— Height of Tibetan passes
— A frozen lake — A grand snowy panorama — Water-parting of the
Indus and Chinab — Nasman-Nisnian camp — Saichu camp — Meet the
first Tibetan traders to Patsio — Their sheep — Salt trade — Kiam camp —
Enter Kashmir territory — Siimdo camp — More sheep — Ldchalang Pass
crossed — Effect of rarefied atmosphere — First game animal seen —
Pangta camp — Two young kiangs take stock of us — Ponies stray-
Reach Rupshii plains — A long march— Rokchen camp— Examine a
sportsman's bag— Picked-up heads — Test of made-up trophies — Great
cold at Rokchen — Coolies paid up — Yaks engaged — Plateau of Rupshu
— Meet a sportsman from Calcutta — Leave Rokchen — Tso-kar salt-lake
— Sheldrakes — Their nests — Polokonka Pass — Tibetan cairns adorned
with horns— The Puga valley — Raldong camp— Varying temperatures —
Reach the river Indus — Delay in crossing — Yaha-Jaha camp — Lamas'
encamimient— Shoot a black wolf— Description of liim— First hunt after
nyan — The valley of frozen lakes — Get on the wrong side of the pass —
A Tibetan beggar — See some nyan — Reach the Mirpa-tso — Three impres-
sions of Ladakh — Cross the Thaota-la — Reach Shushal at last.

On the 16 th of June at five o'clock we were at last able to
face the pass, after lying at its foot, in the worst possible
weather, for nearly three days — an experience to which the
Tibetan traveller must accustom himself. In such circum-
stances he should follow the example of the aborigines,
whose marvellous capacity for surviving such misfortunes
proves them the hardiest of mountaineers. He must have
patience and endure the monotony of inaction, remembering
that with fuel, food, and warm clothing no harm can come.
As we started, a man with twenty sheep came up from

154

HEIGHT OF TIBETAN PASSES 155

Darcha on his way to Eokchen, whither he was "oins; for
wool. He was the first trader of the seasou, and would buy
his wool on the sheep's backs and take delivery at Patsio.
The sheep he had with him would carry his supplies.
Ycikiib had to be hoisted on to Chamurti and held on, as
he had not strength to keep his seat in the saddle ; he had
had nothing to eat, and could not possibly take food till he
had thawed a little. Probably a human being could exist
in this condition, like the hibernating bear, for a length of
time, provided no bodily exertion was exacted. Chamurti
kept with the two Lahouli ponies carrying the fuel, and
became quite sociable with them ; he had sobered down
somewhat now ; the three days of cold had taken some of
the friskiness out of him.

We crossed the pass without the least difficulty, and
reached the second frozen lake on the other side at a quarter
past nine ; the coolies took two hours more. This was a
very small performance indeed compared with the passage
of the Rotang. The fact is, the first pass over the buttress
of the Himalayas is always the most difficult and trying :
most of those which come afterwards, on the Ladakh side,
are across ridges at the heads of valleys — not solid,
upstanding ranges of mountains with bases twenty and
thirty miles in breadth. The height of Tibetan passes
(fifteen to nineteen thousand feet) sound very awe-inspiring,
but, with a very few exceptions, they are passes only in
name. It is to be remembered that the average altitude of
Tibet is not less than 14,000 feet. The ascent of the
Baralacha is very gradual, and presented no difficulties
except sloping patches of snow here and there. After
going up some distance, level tracts are found where the
snow lies thickly ; in one of these is a small frozen lake, the
road running round its margin. This portion of the road is
considered the most dangerous on the pass, as animals are

156 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

liable to slip if there is much snow, and, if laden, are
certain to be lost. A trader lost a pony here last season,
and it was still lying, load and all, in the lake. There was,
however, not the slightest danger when we passed, as this
part of the road was quite free from snow, notwithstanding
the recent heavy falls. A little way beyond the first
frozen lake is a ridge, looking back from the summit of
which a grand snowy panorama lies spread before you — a
splendid stretch of mountains along the entire line of sight
from right to left, a glorious tent-shaped peak of pure white
arresting the eye over minor elevations. The view was
bounded on both sides by two snowy wings, the slopes of
the narrow valley by which I had just ascended. It was
a study in white : neither rocks, earth, nor vegetation were
visible anywhere, from the white carpet at my feet to the
horizon far away in the south — an unbroken white expanse
unequalled on any other mountains on the globe. The next
hardly perceptible undulation I walked over was the top of
the pass, where are two stone huts and the usual Tibetan cairn
with ragged flags stuck about it. To the right as I passed
north, a short distance off, was the source of the Chandra ; at
my feet rose the Bhaga — a few yards only divided them. The
Lingti stream, down which my path dipped, begins its course
at this point also ; so that I now stood on the water-parting
between the Indus and the Chinab. The snow meltinjT on
this slight elevation feeds these three rivers here, and, after
hundreds of miles of widely independent wandering, meet
again in the turbid water of the " Panjnad " below Miiltan.
What a contrast between the scenes of separation and
reunion ! Descending the other slope, the road winds
among overturned rocks as far as Kinlang, the usual
halting-place. There are two double huts in a stone
enclosure here, and below is the bridge crossing the stream.
The baggage animals had to go by the old road, as the bridge

MEET TIBETAN TRADERS 157

was out of repair while I took the new road, which, still
descending, passes along curious little patches of flat ground
— sometimes covered with young grass and surrounded by
disrupted rocks.

We camped on reaching the level of the stony valley,
through which the stream runs. The name of the place is
Nasman-Nisman. On the right edge of this valley are
peculiar-looking small hills, which decrease in size as they
descend along the slope ; my camp was under the first and
largest. "Were these brought here by glacial action ? That
is, are they moraines brought down and deposited at the
bottom of the valley, afterwards cut through into hillocks
by the action of streams, and then moulded into rounded
and conical mounds by the action of weather ? The
disrupted rocks along the road above may have been placed
in their present position by the same means. Marmot
burrows were plentiful after passing the second lake, and
several of the animals v/ere sitting about.

The next camp was at Saichii near the bridge, distance
about nine miles, over a plain on which marmots were
numerous. The alluvial soil here has been cut down
to a great depth by the action of several streams, whose
waters all flow towards Zanskar and join that river. The
Zanskar valley can be easily reached in two marches by
followino; this stream. I met here more traders for the
Patsio market, with their laden sheep. The latter wore
their fleeces, and were fine large animals, very strong and
active, in splendid condition, and noticeable for their small,
well-shaped heads. The salt which the traders had was
bitter (fit only for cattle), collected at the numerous salt
lakes in Tibet. The good salt comes from Chakchaka, near
the Thok-jalung gold mines, far away in the Chang-thaug
— the great plain of Tibet. It is sold with profit as far
south as Kulu.

158 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

Kiam, the next stage, was a very cramped place, between
a rocky ridge and the steep bank of the river ; a regular
sun-trap. This stage took the coolies seven hours : the old
and the new roads were so mixed up that sometimes one
was followed and sometimes the other — the latter was
much the longer of the two, and seemed to be rarely used.
Besides, the whole extent of country during the stage is
cut up by streams; they all flow into the Tsarap river,
which carries them to the Zanskar. The waters have
eaten down through the soil to a great depth, and high
perpendicular banks had to be negotiated more than once.
I started late, at the request of the men, as they had to
wade through the water frequently, and it would be cold
work early in the morning. This was all very well for
them, but, by starting later, I suffered from the sun cruelly.
Two boundary pillars on either side of the road, shortly
after leaving camp, mark the point where Kashmir territory
beo-ins. I was now in the Ladakh province of that
kingdom. As there was no grass near Kiam, the baggage
animals had to be sent across the Tsarap to graze, and the
start in the morning was delayed in consequence. There
were several disagreeable ascents during the next march ;
the first one from Kiam was the longest and most tiresome.
In fact, the distance from Kiam to the top of the Lachalang
is one long ascent to that pass.

The next camp was Sumdo, at the foot of the Lachalang
crest, distance about nine miles, nearly all up-hill : the
coolies did it in seven hours. Siimdo camp was a most
dreary place; the surrounding mountains are stony and
black, and shut in the view on all sides. There was no
grass whatever, only a few dama plants (furze) and the
curious knobby, smooth, and rounded moss-like lumps
that are found at high elevations. Flocks of Ifiipshii
sheep passed my tent at all hours ; they travel day and

LACHALANG PASS 159

night across this grassless tract, taking a good rest and a
good feed at either end. The sheep are too thin and
tongh to make mutton, and the shepherds always take
with them a few goats for food. The sheep are merely
beasts of burden, and as such are indispensable to the
people, for no other animal would suit them so well.
Death does not close their career of utility — their skins
are made into garments, and their carcases feed the watch-
dogs. For every two sheep shorn at Patsio one rupee is
given for the wool ; then there is the load they carry —
altogether a very profitable business, I should say. Two
journeys are made during the open season ; but sometimes
great loss is suffered by snowstorms in the Tsarap valley.
It is said that on one occasion 3000 sheep were lost in
one storm.

The ascent from Siimdo camp to the Lachalang crest
did not take long. My breath came very short as I went
up. The rarity of the atmosphere was making itself felt.
On the Baralacha, which is 16,060 feet above sea level,
I did not experience any inconvenience at all, though of
course I had to halt more frequently than usual to recover
breath. On the Lachalang, which is 16,630 feet high, or
570 feet higher than the last pass, the feeling that I
could not inhale sufficient air at each breath was very
present with me. I am not subject to any of the other
symptoms which attack people at high elevations, such as
nausea and headache, though I have spent several days,
at various times, at elevations of eighteen and nineteen
thousand feet. We left Siimdo at six, and reached Pang
camp at 3.15 p.m.; the distance could not be less than
eighteen miles a gradual descent all the way after cross-
ing the pass. The snow on the north side of the pass was
much more frequent than on the Siimdo side. At one
point in the valley, the mountain side on the left has

i6o THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

fallen bodily down into the valley, and blocked up the
course of a stream which enters it on the left, and which for
some distance runs under the debris, and the road zigzags
down among these ruins in a very rough fashion. There
were some sweet-smelling plants at this place : at a dis-
tance the faint odour was delicious ; but when I went
down and plucked a few stalks, the smell was very strong
and decidedly disagreeable — something like the strong-
smelling sacred Hindu plant called the tulsi. Perhaps
these strong odours, at such high elevations, have given
rise to the native idea that the traveller becomes faint
and ill through inhaling them when crossing passes. A
little farther on we came to a green patch by the side
of the stream, overhung by a conspicuous and peculiarly-
pointed hill, called Gagnajal. The valley gradually opens
out from this point, and is bounded by huge rounded
mountain sides with fantastic points, towers, etc., standing
out in true Tibetan style. But it is only after crossing
the Lachcilang that the characteristic Tibetan scenery meets
one's eyes ; and the country on this side of the Baralacha
is only the prelude to the topsy-turviness with w^hich one
gets familiar in the land of the Lamas. On the left of
the road, on a projection commanding a view up and down
the valley, I saw a burhel ram watching us — the first
game I had seen ; he was about six hundred yards off, and,
though he had small horns, was a welcome sight. When
we reached the camping-place, a short distance from the
stream, a tearing wind was blowing, and there was no
protection from it but rough stone fences, evidently put
up to break the force of the wind. When the traps
arrived, the ponies were let loose, and started off at once
for the green grass fringing the stream — the first food
they had had since their feed on the Tsarap river. Poor
Chamiirti was much reduced by these privations, and having

A LONG MARCH i6i

lost his shoes, his feet had become very tender. As I was
lying on the bank, encouraging the kettle to boil, two
kiangs (wild horses) came running down the valley —
evidently attracted by the ponies. They trotted round in
a circle, stood about a hundred yards off, had a good look
at me, and then raced back neck and neck, kicking up
their heels, and disappeared in the distance — a very pretty
sight. They were the size of small donkeys, and looked
very much like them.

The next stage brought us to Eokchen, a long and
wearing march. We started at 6 A.U., having been some-
what delayed by the disappearance of Chamiirti and another
pony, who had wandered away during the night in search
of tirass. We had to encounter at once the stiff ascent
from Pang camp to the level above, which landed us at
last on the Eiipshu plateau. Kiangs were everywhere and
marmots were plentiful, but both these animals are un-
commonly wide-awake, and kept at a respectful distance,
while they indulged their irrepressible curiosity by staring
at us (out of rifle-range) as we passed along. The road
is along a broad open valley, with extensive plains on
either hand and level all the way, winding about the turns
of the hills, first on the right and afterwards on the left
slope. We did not get into Eokchen till 4 p.m. — a ten
hours' journey. The distance must be twenty miles. The
truant ponies caught us up some hours after starting.
They had gone up the valley some distance, and were
comfortably grazing about among kiangs ; the men had
some difticulty in persuading them into the right path.
There were about thirty-five black tents, of all sizes,
scattered about the level ground near the camp, and close
to a small stream, which comes down from the snow-topped
hills on the left ; the water is evidently the attraction which
makes this valley a favourite camping-place for the people
II

i62 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

of the country. The gentleman shooting about Kardok
sent in some heads and skins during my stay at Eokchen ;
there were two nyan heads (0. Hodgsoni ammon) and
some napu heads {0. nahoor or barhal). The former were
evidently picked up or bought : one was bleached by the
weather, and very old ; the other seemed a skull of last
winter ; there were no nyan skins. The horns of the
largest head measured forty-two inches, or about two inches
above the average size. These picked-up heads are often
passed off in the plains, by the sportsman who uses the
silver bullet, as trophies that have been acquired by him
after going through unheard-of hardships. The old heads
are even set up, sometimes witli the skins of smaller
animals that have really fallen to his rifle, and thus a
greater air of verisimilitude is given to the story. The
cunning taxidermists of Srinagar city are unapproachable
in this kind of forgery. Who has not heard the rotund
warrior holdinc; forth after dinner to an attentive and
admiring group of youngsters, filling them up with the
wonderful incidents of that difficult stalk on the stony
plain beyond Hanle, where he had to crawl ventre a terre
for half a mile, while a scorching sun blistered his back ?
No ; the real Tibetan sportsman is tall, lean, and most
exasperatingly silent as to his adventures. He is met
now and then in his favourite haunts, clad in an old suit
of khaki, weather-worn and ragged at many points, a
battered old felt on his head, and a pair of worn-out
ammunition boots on his feet. His face is the colour of
brick dust, where it is not hidden by the hairy growth of
many days. He has lived on chapatis, cooked by his
faithful Gurkha orderly, and jam made by his careful wife,
for the last three weeks ; but he is now walking away
with the three biggest trophies of the season — and he has
done it all within three months' leave ! This is the style

COOLIES PAID UP 163

of man who bags the largest head in the flock of nyan,
19,000 feet above sea level, or a Victoria Cross in storm-
ing a stockade at the level of the seashore. Forgive me.
General, should this rough pencil-sketch meet your eye !
To revert for a moment to the picked-up trophies : these
may always be known too by a sign which inevitably
betrays them ; the tips of the horns will always be found
to have been gnawed — either by the Tibetan wolf, who
pulled down the original owner during some severe winter,
or by the Tibetan shepherd's watch-dog, who has amused
himself by chewing the points during his moments of
leisure.

It took me thirteen days to reach this place from
Kailang, in ten marches. The calculation I made was
to reach Eokchen on the 19th, but I got in on the 21st
June ; I therefore lost two days over this portion of my
journey. I halted here on the 22nd. The thermometer
in the tent at niijht went down to 26°. At Eokchen
I paid off the Kailang coolies (their wages amounting to
sixty rupees), and arranged for yaks to take me on. Yaks
are cheap — three annas a stage for each load — not animal.
The yakmen take along as many animals as they please,
but get paid for the number of loads only. Three coolie
loads equal one yak load. Eighteen men brought my
things here, so that I had only six yak loads.

A few words about Eiipshi'i, or Eukshii, and its people
will not be out of place here. The altitude of the valley
or plateau is between fourteen and fifteen thousand feet
high, or about double that of Simla, and it is surrounded by
mountain ranges from two to five thousand feet liighcr ; the
climate is therefore rather rigorous. But the people live in
tents all the year round, and apparently thrive under these
conditions. Water freezes here every night of the year.
Though the cold is so intense, the air is extremely dry, and

i64 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

the snow limit is in consequence 20,000 feet. The snowfall
is said to be very small, so that below that level it always
disappears during the summer. Vegetation is scanty : a
little grass may be found near a spring or along the banks
of streams. The population is nothing to speak of — about
five hundred souls in the 4000 square miles of the tract.
They have about a hundred tents, one for each family,
and are divided into two camps. The people are called
" Champas," or tent-dwellers. The tents are made of yak's
or goat's hair, and are very roughly put together. They
have numerous Hocks ; sheep and goats in large numbers
can be seen returning in the evening to camp from all
points of the compass. The people I saw at Eokchen
seemed a lively lot, though they must have a rough time of
it in their tents all the year round. Rupshii pays a revenue
of 2400 rupees. The people told me it was oppressive,
but their numerous flocks and yaks, and the trade they
carry on so profitably, did not bear out the statement ;
they certainly did not look badly off. They were all
comfortably clothed, well-fed, and light-hearted. Their
costume is a choga (long cloak), two or more according to
the temperature, pajamahs, and a waist-belt. They wear
a cap with ear-flaps made of black lambskin, the wool
next the head. This headgear is carried with a very
jaunty air by the young men ; the cap is placed on the
side of the head, and one of the ear-flaps is brought over
the forehead like a peak. With the cap at a proper angle,
and a certain swagger, the youthful Champa looks quite
a dandy, though a dirty one. The men are tall, well-
made, and good-looking ; the women small, ill-formed,
and hard-worked ; they are unceasingly employed in
collecting fuel, carrying water, and in other domestic
duties ; some go with the flocks, and remain out all the
day. Most of the men seemed to spend their time

LEAVE ROKCHEN 165

lounging about, but many were absent on trading business.
I met here the gentleman who had come over the Shingo-
la and through part of Zanskar. He got some ibex and
burhel. He said the Zanskar country he passed through
was full of ibex — he counted more than sixty on one hill-
side. This secluded valley seems to be rarely visited by
sportsmen. This gentleman came all the way from a
cantonment near Calcutta only on four months' leave ; he
marched in by Kulu and Lahoul, intended shooting about
Hanle, and would return by Spiti and Simla to Calcutta —
a good round journey. ISText morning we started together
with our traps, but soon parted ; my friend went off to
the right front, while I continued down to Tso-kar, or
salt-lake, and camped at the farther end, where thei'c was
a little fresh water and some grass. This was a very
short march, but I was greatly exhausted, as most of the
walking was over a dead sandy plain. The lake at this
time was in the form of a crescent. It must have been
enormous at some time, the shores being the edges of the
surroundin" hills, along which the water-line is visible
in many places. It was now shrunk to the lowest level
of the valley. Numbers of sheldrakes frequented the
lake ; these ducks spent a great deal of their time on the
ridge overhanging the west margin of the lake. As this
was their breeding-time, they had evidently built their
nests high up on tlie hillside. I was not aware that
this was their habit, and I have not seen it mentioned
in any book on natural history : to verify my conjecture
demanded more climbing than I was equal to ; but all
appearances were in favour of it. These birds were more
noisy than usual. There were also a few geese on the
lake ; these must have been weak or sickly birds, which
were unable to continue their flight to Central Asia.
The prospect from my tent door was a blank sandy plain ;

i66 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

fifteen kiangs were disporting themselves within my view.
A high wind began to blow from the west, and there was
a great rise in the temperature at once ; at 5 p.m. the
thermometer was G8° in the tent.

Next day I crossed the Polokonka Pass, 16,500 feet
high ; but the ascent was so gradual, and the actual
dividing line so invisible, that I should certainly not have
noticed it but for the usual large mane, or cairn, by the
path. Many horns and skulls of nyan and napu in
addition to the flag on this cairn, but no large horns. It
is much more profitable to sell them to the wandering
sportsman than offer them to the local deity. I was
told that the Ovis ammon horns came from the Tin valley
to the right of my route. They were all votive offerings
by successful local shikaris — a sure sign that game was
near. The sun was very hot during this portion of my
march — in fact, it was unendurable, and I had to take
refuge under a rock, where luckily I found some water,
and therefore stayed for breakfast. This descent from
Polokonka-la in the direction of Pi'iga is much more
marked, and a stony pathway winds down to the plain.
The Puga valley is the place where sulphur is collected
for the Maharajah of Kashmir. The people of the adjacent
country are impressed to do this work, and each person
is paid one anna per day for the four months during
which the operations last. The Puga valley is an ugly
bit of country, shut in by high mountains. "We camped
about a mile and a half below the sulphur works, at a
stream of sweet water. The distance from last camping-
place was not less than eighteen miles, I should say.
During this march I met at three different points men
returning from Sahibs who were out shooting in various
directions. Sahibs were getting pretty thick as I
approached the game ground — the usual thing.

REACH THE INDUS 167

At Tso-kar the thermometer at seven o'clock in the
evening in the tent was 4G° ; at 5 a.m. it was 12'^
below freezing point, but the cold was not disagreeable.
At this latter camp, Ealdong by name, it was G0° inside
the tent at 8.30 r.-"\r., and 38° when I started in the
morning. These iigures will give some idea of the climate
in these parts at this season.

I continued down valley along the Pi'iga stream. At
8 A.M. I came to a tent belonging to an E.E. from
Eoorkee, who had arrived here two days before. He was out
after game, but left a note " for the two gentlemen coming
from Puga," asking them to stop at his tent and have
breakfast, or anything else. I had some tea, and stayed
half an hour. Yakiib, my servant, found a fellow-towns-
man in the gentleman's body-servant, and the cook recog-
nised me as his quondam master in the plains. The
Sapper, in his note, mentioned that he was going to Hanle ;
and that, as far as lie knew, three men were on the road
to Chang-chen-mo ; this was not a promising prospect for
me. I am sorry I missed seeing the hospitable sportsman.
I now thank him again for his kind note and the infor-
mation it contained.

Went on along the stream and reached the Indus in
an hour— old Aba- Sin, " the father of waters," as the
Pathcins call him. A few years before I had crossed his
deep, sullen, and altogether too wrathful stream at Bi'mji,
on the road to Gilgit — how different was his aspect here !
This is his innocent boyhood — small, mild, and gently
playful ; his infancy is passed higher up, in the pure
bosom of the Kailas. We all know his lusty manhood
when he rolls his accumulated strength, tearing away the
land in the season of his temporary madness, along the
level plains of the Panj;ib and of Sind. The path turns up
along the left bank of the stream, and after a short walk

i68 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

the village of Maya, on the opposite bank, came into
view ; that is to say, three donkeys in a patch of green
field — I saw no houses. The ferry-boat and the yaks
from Neuma were to have been ready here for me, as I
had sent on a man from Eokcheu to arrange, and
had sent Sarap with the messenger whom I met returning,
to see the matter was arranged ; but we continued our
journey till we came to the ford opposite Neuma, and no
yaks or men were yet in sight — in fact, not a living creature
of any kind. We therefore pitched camp and awaited
developments, Sarap arrived at eight o'clock with the
animals and men, and reported that the messenger had
never gone to Neuma, nor given the order for carriage.
The people of Ei'ikshu are said to be the highest dwellers
in the world, and, in my experience, also the tallest liars,
as witness this instance. Query — What has made these
gentle and elevated shepherds what they are ? It cannot
be the degenerating influences of the outer world — -their
bleak country effectually protects them from such contamina-
tion— it must be natural.

We crossed the stream next morning, the men taking the
things over on their backs through water up to their thighs ;
on the other side we repacked the yaks and went down
the right bank, reversing yesterday's journey, and so losing
a day. I shot a kiang on this march : he was hit in the
right shoulder at 225 yards, and took the shot without
flinching, but rolled over before he had gone twenty-five
yards. My shooting him was partly due to my wish to
examine one of these animals at close quarters, and partly
to try the range of the rifle — a double Express — which I
bought in a hurry just before starting. It is a pity to
shoot them, and no sportsman should bag more than a
single specimen. I never fired at them again, though the
aggravating creatures spoiled many a stalk after nyan.

z

O
ai
■J

<

YAHA-JAHA CAMP 169

The Iviang I shot was an enormous brute, a very old
stallion, sturdy in limb and build, with hoofs as large as
those of a horse, beautifully shaped, and as hard as iron.
The rest of tlie herd stood about two hundred yards away,
looking on, and Yi'ikub was tempted to have a shot with
the smooth bore : the bullet fell at least a hundred yards
too short, much to his astonishment and dissust. Dis-
tances, of course, are very deceptive in this clear atmo-
sphere. Ydkiib had a glorious spill off the small (very
small) Tibetan tattoo he was riding ; after having his
shot, he mounted and galloped off to the dead kiang to
get the skin. The carcase was lying in a hollow, and
the little pony did not see it till he nearly ran over
it : the consequence was a tremendous shy, and when I
came up I found a struggling mass of man, tattoo, dead
kiang, and my precious gun. It took some time to separate
the component parts, and I was anxious about the gun,
but no damage was done, luckily. I used only the first sight
on the rifle for the long shot I had made. The conclusion
I came to was that the range is just doubled at these high
elevations : the 100 yards sight will do for 200 yards.

We left the Indus near the village of Maya, and turned
up to the right, commencing at once a dreadfully stiff
ascent. I found the heat of the sun intolerable, thourrh I
was riding. We made camp at half-past three in a
singular-looking valley named Yaha-jaha ; it is circular
in shape, and has only one narrow entrance, by which a
small stream flows to a lake at the farther end of the
valley ; there is no outlet ; bare and steep rocky hills
are all round, and the level of the valley is turfy and
boggy where not covered by water. The wind during the
night was most boisterous, and kept me much awake, in
dread of the tent coming down. We started early next
morning in a very cold and most disagreeable wind. The

I70 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

valley along which our path lay was at first very narrow,
but soon opened out into a wide plain, with large snow-
beds in many places. Farther on we came to three tents,
surrounded by stone enclosures, closely packed with sheep
and cattle. There were several Lamas here. All this
country belongs to the village of Chumathang, which
belongs to the Lunias of the Hemis monastery ; that is to
say, they receive the revenues, and these flocks and herds
belonged to them. Lamas manage all the business. We
camped a mile farther up the stream, which, next morning,
I found completely frozen. The thermometer, in the warm
tent, was 32°, but the sun was not out an hour before all
signs of ice had disappeared, and at ten o'clock the heat
was unbearable !

I tried the hill-range on my right for nyan next day, but
saw only napu (the Tibetan name for barhal), and returned
to the valley to move camp a few miles higher up. I
shot a wolf on the way. I was lying down near the
stream late in the evening, resting, when a marmot spied
me and began piping. I was watching his jerky move-
ments through the glasses, when, presently, a dirty-looking
animal came trotting along the edge of the valley towards
the marmot, who disappeared. When the wolf got between
me and the marmot, I called, and he stood to look. I hit
him in the head with the '500 Express, and he fell dead.
To me the dead beast looked more like a hya?na than a
wolf. He was very old; the teeth were ground down to
the gums, and were hardly distinguishable. The pelage on
the back and sides was blackish on top, bluish below next
the skin, and whitish under the belly. The hair behind
was three inches long, under belly four and a half inches,
on the neck four inches, and under the neck five inches.
The tail was bushy, and seventeen inches long. The bullet
entered the right eve, and so smashed his head that I could

FIRST NYAN HUNT 171

not preserve the skull ; but I kept the skin, and sent it
afterwards to Mr. Sclater of the Calcutta Museum, who in-
formed me that the animal was the black wolf of Tibet
(Canis nigcr). This valley is called rhia-li'ing (marmot
valley).

On the 1st of July I started for my first regular hunt
after nyan, leaving most of my traps in the main valley.
I spent five days to the west of the Phia-lung across the
dividing ridge, but had no success whatever. There are a
number of frozen lakes in the valley I visited, joined by tiny
streamlets. The lakes, from all appearances, seemed to l)e
constantly frozen, A few feet of ice along the margin thaws
for a few hours during the day, but hardens again towards
evening : I could not see any outlet to the waters. These
curious mountain tarns are frequently found among these
ranges. Are they the remains of glaciers ? I examined
the grassy plains about these pieces of water and the sur-
rounding hillsides with the glasses for an hour ; they were
the most likely places for game, but I could discover only
two kiangs. The guide with roe made an awkward discovery
here : after topping a ridge, he looked about, and then
announced the fact that we were on the wrong side, that
is to say, on the Shushal side of the pass — we had crossed
the dividing range when going down to the frozen lakes.
My heart misgave me when I saw the stream running
north, and could view the country right down to Shushal,
not more than fifteen miles off". I sent the coolie oil' at
once to brino; the little tent, and went down to the foot
of the pass to await its arrival. This saved us a long
and useless trudge to the shooting in front of us. On
the level plain, near the foot of the pass, we found a
Tibetan tent and a few goats. The wandering shepherd
was very kind, and we soon had a roaring fire of yak's
dung and turf. This lonely shepherd had a deaf wife

172 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

and thirty shawl goats. He was by profession a beggar,
and belonged to the province of Kham in Tibet. He ran
away from home when he was quite a young man — pro-
bably with the woman who was now with him. He was
a strong, good-looking fellow, who had a very lively way of
talking. Nothing betrayed his profession, except his pro-
fuse thanks and salutes with both hands to his forehead.
The tent arrived at nine o'clock, and soon we were all
snug. During the whole day I must have been wandering
at a very high level, as I found breathing very laboured
and difficult. Next morning, as I was having tea, Sarap
announced a flock of nyan behind the tent ! I rushed out
and counted six ewes and one small ram ; they were not
worth following, and I watched them till they disappeared
over the ridge at their leisure, grazing as they went, not
more than six hundred yards from the tent. The weather
was abominable, and prevented us from making a start till
eleven ; we then resumed our hunt, or rather search, but
snow came down again soon after we started, and the wind
was terrific ; we saw nothing all day, and made camp
lower down in the same valley. Next day we ascended
the range on the right of the valley, by a well-worn
kiang path, and on the way I discovered in the centre
of the path a^ neatly-made stone-pit for trapping animals
in the winter, when they come down to drink at the main
stream. We went down the other slope of the range
facing the lake on the regular road, by the Thaota-la pass
to Shiishal ; and having seen nothing, camped in a nala
leading down to the lake — the Mirpa-tso. We had
great difficulty about water — a load of snow had to be
brought down as a substitute. The surrounding hills are
black-looking, barren, and most forbidding, and the dead
lake, whose water is saline and smells abominably, lies in
the midst; there is a total absence of animal life of any

CROSS THE THAOTA-LA 173

kind. Thus a hunt of five days was an utter faihire : not
a ram ^ood enouQ;h to follow had been seen, nor a shot
fired. For the benefit of those who may follow me, I
here put on record that in Ladakh (1) the wind is lord
paramount; (2) tliat the only beautiful thing in the
country is the sky ; and (3) that everything lools near,
but is very distant. This was the outcome of my experi-
ences, and it relieves my mind to say so.

The things left behind in the Phia-lung having arrived,
we made a start next morning, and, skirting the lake shore,
proceeded to the Thaota-la (17,000 feet). Sarap had
dismal stories about the huti (plant) on this pass, the smell
of which takes away the traveller's breath. I asked him
to procure me a specimen of it, but he could find none ;
neither did anyone suffer from the rarefaction of the air.
Sanip had come out in his true colours within the last few
days ; he was a cunning malingerer, a first-class bully, and
a monumental liar. The ascent of this pass is nothing to
speak of from the lake side, but the descent of the other
(Shiishal) side is considerable. In the route map of the
Himalayas, published by the Great Trigonometrical Survey,
the pass is shown on the south-west of the Mirpa-tso ;
its real position is just in the opposite direction, that is,
to the north of the lake. As we went down to the plain
below, I met a gentleman coming up in my direction ; he
was going up the nala leading to the Dece-la (pass), the
very ground over which I had just hunted. He had come
from Simla via Kashmir and Leh, had been to the Chang-
chen-mo valley, and was now on his way back. He had
passed through the Phia-lung in May, and had bagged five
Ovis ammon in the valleys I had found so empty ! Three
of the heads were thirty-eight, forty, and forty-two inches.
He had left eight rams behind, and was now going to look
them up. When I told him my experience, he seemed

174 THE JOURNEY TO LADAKH

rather disappointed, but said he would still make the
attempt — at anyrate, this was his way back. He had uot
had much luck in Chang-chen-mo, having bagged only ten
Tibetan antelope ; there were four sportsmen still there.
The information he gave me proved again what thorough-
going liars these Tibetans are. I made every inquiry in
the Phia-lung regarding game, and whether the country
had been shot over lately, and had been met by denials on
every side : there was no game, no Sahib had been here,
no nyan had been shot at, etc. It seems a rooted conviction
in the minds of these people that a consistent course of
denials, when questioned on any subject, is the easiest way
out of all difficulties. The traveller or sportsman must
bear this constantly in mind. Had I known that this bit
of country had been shot over, of course I should not have
wasted a week knocking about those desolate and frozen
valleys.

CHAPTER XII

NYAN (OYIS AMMON) SHOOTING

The village of Shushal— Its mud ba7igIa—Arra.iige for the shooting— Old
Tashi— Treatment of native shikaris— Hardiness of Tibetan ponies-
Start for shooting ground— Sarap again— No post— One of the hardships
of Tibetan travelling— Sarap deposed— My boy head shikari— The
regular Kashmir shikar establishment— First sight of nyan— My first
stalk — My boy shikari does splendidl}-— Bag my first Ovis ammon—
Camp out— The Pangur-tso— On the border— Some more nyan— The
old ram's cautious generalship— A successful stalk— Habits of the nyan —
The valleys near the Pangi'ir-tso- Cloudy weather— Another nyan hunt
—Six hours in a shallow trench— A trying ordeal— The nyan score this
time— A desperate rush— Sight the nyan again— A long shot— Bag one
—Return to camp— After nyan again— Nonplussed by idiotic kiangs—
The hunting ground— An excursion suggested— Big heads are getting
scarce— Causes of their disappearance— Old rams are adepts at conceal-
ment— Eeturn to Shushal.

The habitation in Shushal, dignified by the name han[/la,
was certainly a roomy place, but built in the most primi-
tive style, with mud walls, mud roof, and mud floor. The
dust resultant from these materials was pre-eminently
obtrusive, owing to the genial blasts of Tibetan wind that
could not be denied entrance. The doors, windows, and
chinks were not on the dust-proof principle like my watch,
and when the rain came down (which it did frequently),
copious douches of liquid mud bespattered myself and my
belongings. The village of Shvishal is a collection of
miserable mud huts straggling over the green fields, round

176 NY AN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

a hill which, of course, is crowned by the inevitable gonpa,
or monastery. An open valley comes in from the west,
another from the south, — the road by which I came, —
another on the east. All these open fiat valleys combine
to form an extensive plain, with the gonpa on the hill in
the centre. Sprinkled over the plain were sheep, goats,
and ponies, with darkly-clad figures moving among them.
Nearer, in the fields, women were working ; and lounging
about the houses were dirty mangy dogs mixed up with
children in the same condition. The incomparable Tibetan
sky above, and Tibetan winds, also incomparable, tore over
the plain. The prospect had charms of its own for a
weary traveller just arrived from the dreary mountains in
the south — principally because it offers the opportunity of
a good rest. Supplies also were procurable, and it was
the nearest point to my first shooting ground. I halted
here for two days, and arranged for a trip eastwards up
the Tsaka valley for Ovis ammo7i. I discovered in the
village a very old man, who had been a good shikari in his
time, and who knew all the haunts of game in these parts ;
he was too old for active work now, but I took him with me
on a pony, and got a deal of information from him while
he sat in camp drinking my tea. Some men have a repre-
hensible habit of ill-treating those who go out with them
to show game, when, as frequently happens, no animals are
found at the spot or at the time when or where game was
promised. The sportsman who follows this short-tempered
gentleman is the real sufferer. The man who has been
roughly handled goes into hiding when he hears of the
advent of the next Sahib, feigns illness, or swears roundly
that no game has existed in his neighbourhood for years,
and thus the unoffending new-comer loses the help of,
perhaps, the only man who can show game. Old Tashi, I
am sure, had had some experience of this kind ; it was

HARDINESS OF TIBETAN PONIES 177

with difficulty that I could get hold of him. And when
he did put in an appearance, he was most reluctant to have
anything to do with me. I left most of my things at
Shiishal, taking only a light camp for the shooting.
Chamiirti, too, was left behind for a rest, to get his feet in
order. The grass of these highlands has undoubtedly most
nourishing qualities. This hardy little beast went off and
on several times during this expedition, but never knocked
up. The important point is to know when to give them
rest. Their starvation experiences during the long winters
of their native land must be a good training. I hired for
riding a little Tibetan pony, which proved the most difficult
animal to ride that I ever crossed — there was so little of
him ! But he carried my twelve stone bravely, when a
steep climb had to be negotiated, or a long plain crossed
under the burning sun. My hunting ground lay on the
road from Shushal to Hank', and the road passes up a
broad and level valley, inclined to be swampy in its lower
parts. Droves of kiangs were numerous to the left of the
road, on the grassy flats, seeming quite at home, though only
a short distance from Shiishal. I saw quite two hundred
of them during the first march.

When nearing Thinne-gongma (that is. Lower Thiune), I
made out three Ovis ammon at the mouth of a gorge on
my right. They were grazing on the slope of the hill just
over the edge of the plain, so I took Sarap with me for
the stalk. He made a mess of it. He had bad eyesight,
and was a bad climber as well as a cunning malingerer.
The game soon spied us, and were off at once. We were in
full view on the plain, and could not get cover enough all
the way, so the result could have been hardly otherwise.
At Thinne-gongma we found a spring of good water, and
pitched tent close to it. I felt rather out of temper this
evening : the principal cause was the non-arrival of my
12

178 NY AN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

post. At Eokchen I had paid three rupees to a man, and
started him off (as I thought) to Leh for my letters ; he
solemnly promised to meet me at Shi'ishal, but he never
came, and I had to send another man from the latter place.
I found out afterwards that the Eokchen man pocketed
my money and remained at home. To he deprived of
one's letters and papers for weeks at a time is another of
the disagreeables of travel in these wild parts. This is a
hardship which the over-civilised Englishman feels acutely.
There was only one post office in the whole of Ladakh (at
Leh), so far as I was aware, but with the improved means
of carriage as far as Srinagar a letter from any part of
India should reach Leh in ten days, and in another ten
days find the sportsman in the most distant shooting
grounds. But I was again the victim of the unsophisti-
cated nomad : that he should never be trusted under any
circumstances was my conclusion.

Continuing my journey up the Tsaka valley, I saw some
animals on the hillside, which Sarap insisted were nyan,
but after close inspection they were found to be barhal.
This man was not worth a coolie's wages, so I deposed him.
I had a Shiishal boy with me to carry tiffin, etc., and he
was much more useful than Sarap. As he was unusually
intelligent, I kept him with me as head shikari. Com-
munication between us was somewhat limited, but he was
less aooravatinor than the fraud I had brought from Lahoul ;
keen as mustard, and a capital worker ; also he knew the
country well. His eyesight, of course, was equal to a pair
of good binoculars. He was a short, stumpy little fellow,
hardly fourteen years of age. This was a smaller estab-
lishment than the usual Kashmir shikar outfit: head
shikari at thirty rupees a month, tea and all the luxuries
thrown in ; second shikari at fifteen rupees a month ; tiffin
coolie at ten rupees a month, etc. etc. How the inexperi-

FIRST SIGHT OF NYAN 179

enced Englishman sheds his rupees while he is gaining
experience ! The premier scoundrel is always the English-
speaking servant he brings up with him from the plains ;
his able assistant is the " head shikari," than whom no more
scientific swindler exists on the earth. AVhen they two
fall out, their " master " comes by his own. These experi-
enced "entlemen, however, are too wise to cut their throats
in that fashion. They scrupulously observe the secret pact
between themselves, and loot the common enemy.

We crossed the Tsaka-la (15,500 feet), and camped
at Dong - king or De-chang, as marked on the route
map. The traveller should note another mistake here in
this useful map. The Tsaka-la is not, as marked, on the
Indus side of this camping-place, Dong-liing ; it is on the
Shushal side. The distance between these two places is
about twenty-two miles. The Dong-king camp is about
14,500 feet above sea level, so that in reality the height
of the Tsaka-la is only about 1000 feet above the level
of the valley — a slight rise only, very typical of Tibetan
passes with five figures attached to them on the maps.
Nevertheless, the sun was all there, especially in the close
places where the winds could not find free play. Just
after topping the pass we disturbed a flock of seven nyan.
They ran down, in the direction of camp, along the hill-
side, and stopped behind another hill ; I tried for them in
the evening, but they had moved. I saw on the hillside
numerous tracks, certainly not a day old, of large rams.
I had viewed my game at last, and felt that I was really
among them. Old Tashi had kept his word.

I began my regular Ovis ammon hunt on the 9th July.
Myself and the boy, with another man to carry lunch,
started at 5 a.m., went back to the foot of the pass, and
turned up to the ridge where we had seen the nyan. We
found them on the plain on the other side of the range,

i8o NYAN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

after a long hunt. There was no cover, and we could not
manage to get down even to the plain ; the mountain
slopes were perfectly smooth, without a single friendly-
undulation, and the plain below was like the palm of one's
hand. The game became suspicious — probably they saw
us on the sky-line — at anyrate, they crossed the valley
to the opposite hills, without the least hurry. This seems
a characteristic of all wild sheep : unless very hard pressed,
they are dignified and slow. As regards nyan, they always
have such an extensive view over the country they frequent,
that they have ample time to get out of the way, without
over-exerting themselves. Even after they have been fired
at, though they will go off at a hard gallop they soon slow
down ; and, as long as they have the danger in view, will
not mend their pace, though they may go long distances
before lying up again. The seven I was after having
crossed the crest of the opposite range, we descended into
the plain and followed their tracks. They were not visible
when we reached the sky-line, but their tracks showed that
they had gone towards the left, across a low spur, into a
dip where they had evidently come to a stand. A troop
of kiangs was just below us ; we waited some time for them
to get out of the way, but they showed no intention of
doins so, and, as I was not inclined to lose much time on
their account, we attempted to pass them. The moment
we came within their view there was a great commotion ;
they threw up their heads, cocked their ears, and trotted
round us in true asinine fashion, most irritating to behold,
and then they went straight up along the track of the wild
sheep. The inevitable happened. When we reached the
crest of the spur, the nyan were on the next sky-line,
right ahead of us, and the rascally kiangs were gallop-
ing down to our left, making for the large plain we
had ci-ossed a while ago. This was my first introduc-

MY FIRST STALK i8i

tion to kiangs and nyans at close quarters. The boy with
me, however, was not beaten. I understood him to mean
that the game had crossed over to a valley, and he proposed
to follow them ; so we bent our backs for the sky-line
again, the noonday sun punishing me most unmercifully.
We saw the nyan again, far down below us, going in as
leisurely a fashion as usual, four a good distance ahead,
and the other three lagging behind. The flock had
evidently separated : the first four were making for
some distant place of safety, while the three laggards
showed signs of soon lying up. So I had something
to eat, and resumed the hunt. The three were now
out of sight, having entered one of the numerous side
nalas on the left of the main valley ; the other four, still
travelling easily, were now about two miles off. Getting
off the hillside into the bed of the dry watercourse at the
bottom, we proceeded downwards very slowly and with
great caution. We passed many side valleys on the left —
regular pockets — opening into the main line of drainage,
and were always disappointed when we peeped cautiously
in and found each one empty. This sustained suspense,
with the sun pouring into the close valley, was beginning
to tell on me, when the boy, who was picking out the way,
two paces in front, dropped as if he had been shot. He
was a born stalker ; he had got a glimpse of one nyan in
one of the small valleys on the hillside. He dropped so
quickly that the animal did not see him, though he was on
the hill above us. We drew back, went up the back of
the hill, and within ten minutes of sighting him I was in
position.

When I looked over, only one sheep was to be seen.
The distance was certainly over 150 yards when I fired
at the sitting nyan, but the bullet struck over him, though
the hundred yards sight was used. The sheep bolted away

i82 NYAN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

without waiting to find out what had happened ; but the
other two, who had been lying upon the slope of the hill
on my side, rushed out from below, and came to a stand
on the hill facing me, about 200 yards off — not looking,
but intently listening ; they had evidently been sound
asleep when the crack of the rifle roused them. The
bullet from the second barrel went true this time, and the
largest ram of the two came rolling down the hill with a
broken back. I used the standard sight again for the
second shot — another instance of the difference in sighting
in these elevated regions. When we got up to the dead
animal, both the boy and myself were on the best of terms
with ourselves. It was my first Ovis amnion, and his too,
probably. The boy's excitement knew no bounds ; he was
quite " above himself." But when I patted him on the
back and put a rupee into his hand, he was calm in an
instant ; this meant business. It was now 3 p.m., and I
felt that I had done enough for one and the first day :
I had been tramping since five o'clock, and for a great
portion of the time had been under intense excitement —
kept up pretty well at boiling point by the too vigorous
sun ; so I rested until the things came up. When I
made up my mind to follow the game down this valley
I knew that I could not return to Dong-lung by evening,
and therefore sent the extra man who accompanied us back
for the small tent, bedding, and food, intending to sleep
that night as near the game as possible. This precaution
saved me the awful trudge back to camp, which tells so
fearfully on the returning sportsman spent with the exer-
tions of the day. When tlie things arrived, I went down
the valley and camped by a trickle of water : Paugiir-tso
was within sight, about two miles lower down. Camp was
a shorter distance beyond the border ; the men with me
were in consequence uneasy, fearing discovery by the trans-

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MORE NYAN 183

frontier Tibetans of the villages a few miles to the right
of the lake. For some reason or another, Laclakhis are
always nervous about going any distance beyond this
imaginary line, though the people on the other side are
closely related to them, and are the same in manners, customs,
and language. In this ugly stony valley, where the steep
hillsides were not more than a couple of hundred yards
from each other, there was no sign of the presence of
human beings, and I was sure it was rarely visited except
by nyans, who seemed to make it a place of refuge when
hunted away from better grazing grounds. After making
camp, a yak was taken back, and the ovis brought down.
The horns measured thirty-two inches, and were massive
at the base. They were below the average, but when I
first beheld the animal I imagined him to be of enormous
size. The two yakmen and my sporting boy had some
difficulty in breaking him up, but they rewarded them-
selves afterwards by fids of meat warmed at the fire, and
eaten with every sign of satisfaction. In the evening eight
nyan were discovered grazing on the slopes above the
camp on the right, less than half a mile away, but I left
them undisturbed for next morning.

I was up at five, and ascended the slope with the boy
only, on the tracks of the four rams we had hunted the
previous day. We reached the crest of the range without
seeing anything. I Jut after a long search the boy descried
the flock of last evening, feeding in the bottom of the
main valley, between the tent and the lake. We had to
wait their further movements, as in our respective positions
it was not possible to get within a mile of them without
being detected ; but as the sun grew warmer, they moved
up the slope on our side — a piece of luck for which I was
thankful. We lay and watched them quietly; they came
along very slowly, snatching a mouthful of grass at each step,

1 84 NY AN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

till they reached the entrance of a side valley just below
us, about eight hundred yards away. We could plainly
see their every movement : there were seven — two fine
large rams, the rest of no account. They kept steadily to
the bottom of the nala, along the dry bed of the water-
course, seeming inclined to spare themselves as much
climbing as possible. After getting well up into the side
valley, they turned up a short ravine, evidently for their
mid-day sleep. They gave themselves away by making this
selection, and were completely in my power. It was most
amusing to watch the generalship of the leader, the oldest
ram, as he led his comrades into this trap ; he was most
cautious and deliberate in his movements, using both eyes
and nose while he picked his way slowly along — wholly
unconscious, poor beast, of the two pairs of eager eyes that
were watching him from above. It was mid-day now, and
the sun had thoroughly warmed this open-air sleeping
chamber. As soon as the ovis reached it, each selected
his bed, smelt it, and lay down, stretching out his limbs,
and laying his head on the slope of the hill with every
appearance of settling down to a comfortable sleep. The
old ram was the last to make himself comfortable ; he
evidently felt the responsibility of his position, and the
abandon of his companions showed clearly their confidence
in him. I admired this picture through my glasses for
some time : the peacefulness of the scene would have
disarmed anyone but the bloodthirsty hunter.

When my sense of admiration had been appeased, I
made my dispositions, laying out in my mind all the points
I was to make, the exact place from which I was to fire,
the position of the old ram, and the distance from my
firing point. We then began our stalk, going straight
down the slope, and getting into the dry watercourse in
ten minutes. We followed up the tracks till they turned

HABITS OF NYAN 185

to the right, when we ascended the slope, and reached the
firing point without a hitch. I used the "450 Winchester
Express for the first shot, distance about one hundred yards,
and broke the neck of the okl ram as he lay in the warm
sun, in a most comfortable sleep. Poor beast, he passed
from ovine dreams to the sheep's paradise (wherever it
may be) without knowing it. These cold-blooded proceed-
ings cause a certain amount of revulsion, but such are
the fortunes of sport ; and when one marches for a month
over the roughest country in the world, it is lawful to take
advantage of all the luck that falls in one's way, when
hunting a wild animal credited by all authorities with the
wiliness of the prince of darkness. After the shot he just
stretched himself out a little more and lay still, but the
others were over the crest of the slope in a second, and in a
short time they were on the higher range in front of me,
going slowly as usual, and making frequent halts to watch
us : our positions were reversed. The horns of this ram
were a handsome pair, measuring thirty-eight inches.

It seems to be the habit of nyan, in these mountains
at anyrate, to sleep high up on the open hillside in the
night ; in the morning to graze down to the level of the
valley, and remain about there till noon ; then slowly graze
up a side valley ; select a warm, secluded ravine, concealed
on all sides, and lie up for a couple of hours enjoying the
sun ; then to graze up again by evening to their night
quarters on the sleep and open hillside, where tliey are
most secure from prowling animals. The proper time to
catch them is when they are napping at noon — the hottest
time of the day. The approacli must always be made
from above ; if the sun is bright and hot, the wind is sure
to be blowing from below. This is my experience.

Next morning we struck camp and crossed the range on
the ri'^ht into the next valley. A small thin stream runs

1 86 NYAN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

down the bottom from a patch of snow above, and we
camped here, only on account of the convenience of this
water, but at noon it suddenly dried up as some dark and
heavy clouds shut off the sun from the snow-field ! This
was rather a sell, and I thought our water supply was cut
off, till to-morrow's sun warmed up the snow again. There
were small patches of coarse grass visible, but not a living
thing, though we came across some fresh nyan tracks after
passing over the crest ; probably those of the animals that
had been disturbed by my shooting on the other side.

Heavy clouds were hanging about, but there was not
much wind. They must have brought their moisture from
the Indian Ocean and have come a long way. How did
they escape the great barrier of the Himalayas ? The
accepted notion is that the clouds which pass over the
plains of Hindustan impinge on the sides of this
huge range, and are precipitated in rain, the waters of
which flow back through the plains to the sea. I watched
these clouds for some days ; they all seemed to come from
the south-west ; great masses of them were constantly
passing over and going farther north : probably they are
finally used up in the " Chang-thang," or great plain, which
forms such a large portion of Tibet. This was the warm-
est camp I had been in since I have been travelling in
Ladakh ; it was quite hot during the day in the tent, and
at night very pleasant. We went out in the evening and
found the tracks of two nyan, evidently the companions of
the one I bagged ; they appeared to have crossed this
valley and made an attempt to get into the next, but the
black, rocky mountain sides in every direction discouraged
them, and, their fears having subsided, they apparently
went back to their favourite grazing ground, whence they
had been ejected by the kiangs.

The little stream began to flow again at about four o'clock

ANOTHER NYAN HUNT 187

when the sun reappeared, and kept running all night.
Again we struck camp, which the yaks brought after me.
They could follow us easily by our tracks, and when they
failed, a yakman had no difficulty in finding us in any
direction, as all he had to do was to climb a convenient hill
After looking about the neighbourhood for some hours,
and finding no encouraging signs, my boy shik;'iri said it
would be best to turn back into the valley where we had
first met the ovis on the morning when we started from the
permanent camp. He called it " Nyan-liing," or the nyan
valley. He said it was a certain find for them at this
season, and no doubt it was a favourite grazing ground ;
so we turned and crossed the range, again coming
across the tracks of the nyan, and after a time passed the
sleeping-places of five, who had spent the night here not
long ago. After an hour's tracking, the boy spied four
dark spots and a white one on the opposite range, beyond
the Nyan-lung, which divides it from the Dong-lung, where
the main camp was. We left the tracks and crept pain-
fully along the plain, in full view, as far as we dared, and
then lay down in a shallow nala, where we remained
for six mortal hours, from nine o'clock till three. We
could not move a step, as we were in full view of the game,
which was nearly at the top of the range, and kept there,
grazing about and lying down. A regular gale began
to blow shortly after, and heavy clouds came up ; but the
wind was steady from the east, and in my favour. Presently
drizzling rain came on, beating straight in our faces. Our
situation was not a comfortable one, but I waited patiently,
as every look through the glass told me that the nyan
with the light-coloured coat was a beauty, and would repay
even six hours' exposure. There was another darker
ram, larger in the body, but I came to the conclusion,
after careful comparison, that the first had the better

i88 NYAN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

horns. The sterns of these animals were white, and when
they turned from us they became almost invisible against
the light-coloured hillside. The two big nyan remained
feeding about on one spot, occasionally lying down, the
younger and smaller ones ranging farther and lower. By
three o'clock my patience was exhausted, for evening was
coming on, and the game showed no signs of coming to
graze on the plain. A move had to be made, and, thinking
I saw a chance, I made a rush, and got four of the beasts
under the crest of a lower range just in front, which
concealed us from their view ; it was lung-splitting work,
and pumped me completely. I heard the boy behind
blowing like a grampus and murmuring " Ami-na, Ami-na"
under his breath — that is, invoking his mother. The largest
nyan, the dark-coloured one, was highest on the hill, and
the only animal left uncovered ; he no doubt was the
senior, and kept careful watch over his younger friends
below him — a habit just the reverse of that I noticed in
the ibex. One rush more would have brought him too
under the crest of the closer range, but as we made it he
detected us, and when I looked up again he was standing
like a statue with head erect, in full gaze — a splendid
picture. We dropped as if shot, but the old ram was not
to be deceived. Our movements caught his eye for perhaps
a second ; he knew it meant danger ; and after a steady
look of a couple of minutes, during which he could not
have discovered anything, he ran down to his companions
— and it was all over, as far as that stalk was concerned.

We went slowly up the hillside, and, reaching the crest,
discovered the rams in i'uU but slow retreat. They crossed
over to the Dong-lung side, and we followed them as soon
as they were out of sight, the boy taking up the tracks,
which could be plainly recognised fifty yards ahead, on the
crumbling slope. We went a long distance, crossing the

A LONG SHOT 189

crest of the range and ascending the other side among the
spurs leading down to the DoDg-lung, where the tracks of
the sheep were lost in a rocky, steep side valley, covered
in places with clumps of the dama plant.

The contrariness of sporting luck was now fully
illustrated. All day the wind had been blowing a gale
from the east, entirely in my favour, and now, as soon as
I was within striking distance of the game, it veered quite
round, and went down the valley directly from us to the
nyan ! We were too close to retreat, and before we had
gone a hundred yards the boy sighted the rams : they
were huddled together in the bottom of one of the small
side ravines, apparently concealing themselves among some
dama bushes. It was impossible to say whether they
were seeking protection from the weather, or trying to
keep out of our sight. At anyrate, they were fully aware
of our proximity, and were looking in our direction, for a
regular Tibetan gale was blowing towards them from us.
We crossed over to the next ravine on our left and rushed
along its bottom to get within range, but the rams guessed
our tactics, and when we topped the ridge they were
retreating down the main channel. Instead of following
the windings of the nala, where they would have been out
of sight and perfectly safe, they went down it a short
distance, and turning up the opposite side, huddled together
on a knoll watching us, about 300 yards distant from
our position on another hillock. It was my only chance,
I thought, and I took the shot at the dark-coloured beast
that had been the sentinel. Putting up the second sight
of the Winchester Express, I caught him just behind the
left shoulder, and he rolled down, while the others
disappeared. As I fired, the thunder rolled, and there
were several successive claps, quite close above us, which
came in very dramatically at the right moment, but were

I90 NYAN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

nevertheless very alarming. A brisk shower followed,
and I was quite drenched, even through my greatcoat,
before I could reach the dead ram. The stalk thus ended
in very grand style indeed, and amid characteristic Tibetan
surroundings : wild ravines on all sides, the heavens dark
with thunder-clouds. The ram was a splendid fellow, with
horns of thirty-nine inches. My gratification was complete
when the boy informed me that the big camp in the
Dong-lung was not far off ! It was, in fact, hardly a mile
away, and we reached it within half an hour of firing the
only shot of the day. I tipped that boy every time we
stood together over a slain ram, and he was now the proud
possessor of three rupees — more money than had ever
rested on his palm before. His enthusiasm was boundless,
and he seemed ready to lead me after nyan to the farther-
most limits of Tibet. Everyone in camp that evening was
happy. The postman had arrived a short time before me,
and nyan-mutton was boiling in the brass pots of the yak-
men before the sun had set, so we were all suited according
to our several tastes. It was a brilliant evening : the

O

clouds had cleared away, only a gentle breeze was blowing,
and the air was just cold enough to be bracing.

I remained in these shooting grounds for one week, and
during that time had very bad luck indeed. On three
occasions, after long and painful stalks, my labour was
lost, owing to the utter perversity of kiangs, who were
fifty times more numerous than the Ovis ammon, and
were always turning up at the critical moment. Once I
was just getting within range of two fine rams, when a
solitary kiang lunatic turned up on my right front, got
well above me, and began to snort and trot to and fro,
with his ears cocked and his tail in the air, cutting a most
ludicrous figure. We had to lie flat for an hour while
this wild jackass was satisfying his curiosity. He was

IDIOTIC KIANGS 191

evidently in abject terror, yet curiosity chained him to the
spot. He did not cease his attentions till the two nyans
were fleeing for their lives, frightened out of their
wits by his carryings-on. Then the kiang, having
discovered that we were harmless so far as he was
concerned, trotted peacefully away over a slope, in the
opposite direction, with, I trust, his mind at rest. But for
the fear of disturbing other game, that brute would certainly
have had a bullet through his hide. Another time we
came on a herd of kiangs in the course of a long stalk,
and had to roll and crawl for several hundred yards over
a very stony hillside to avoid them, but were in the end
detected, after my elbows, knees, and hands seemed worn
down to the very bone, and I was breathless to boot. On
another occasion I was in position, getting my wind to take
the shot, when a shout arose from the plain, and a party
of Tibetans came into full view. They were travellers on
ponies, proceeding towards Eudok. There had been a faint
tinkling of bells borne on the air for some time, which
had puzzled me greatly, and the mystery was solved when
the cavalcade came in sight — and the nyan disappeared
before I could get my shot. During the whole of this
week I bagged only one ovis ; he was the smallest of the
four I got, and gave me most trouble. I stalked two
nyan up to within three hundred yards, and could get no
nearer; they went to bed on the bare hillside for their
mid-day nap, and I had to await their pleasure for an
hour. I hit the larger of the two in the left leg, high up
in the fleshy part, but he went off as if untouched. A
long chase followed, which was brought to an end for that
day by a storm of sleet and rain ; the former punished me
dreadfully on the face, neck, and hands — the sensation
was like that of a charge of small shot at long range.
The sleet lay so thick that the tracks were lost, and we

192 NYAN (OVIS AMMON) SHOOTING

had to give up. Next morning we took up the hunt
again, and followed the frozen tracks till we discovered
them lying down in a hollow. The unwounded one
vanished like a ghost, but the one I had hit was stiff and
was not quick enough ; as he topped the ridge I fired and
hit him in the shoulder. The smaller animal remained
faithful to his elder friend till the moment of his death ;
he even lingered on the hillside a short distance off, after
the latter fell, and did not take his final departure till he
saw us start again for the valley ahead of us, in which
direction he was evidently bound himself ; he then
disappeared. It is said that the young rams always show
this sympathy when an older one — the leader, I suppose
— is hurt, but the older ones do not reciprocate the
attention when a junior is the victim.

It will be observed that I did not see any phenomenal
heads during my stalks : the four I bagged were all below
the average — only one could be said to be really good ;
but if a sportsman went along the border-line, and made
trips beyond it, after procuring information regarding
likely and unfrequented localities, I think he would come
across nyan the heads of which would bear comparison with
any that have been obtained. I am afraid, however, that
heads having forty-five or fifty-inch horns have become
extremely rare. The nyan is an animal that sticks, it
would seem, to the bit of country where he " growed." Big
heads become matured in certain places : the sportsman
comes along and lays himself out to get as many as he can.
After that there will be no desirable heads in that locality
for years — not, in fact, until the young rams of the place
have had time to grow them. Severe winters, the rapacious
wolf, and the local shikari, are also causes which militate
against really good trophies. The old ram with a heavy
head is naturally slow, and he soon falls a victim to the

OPINIONS OF SPORTSMEN 193

wolf after a heavy snowfall, or to the Tibetan with his
pronged matchlock — especially towards the border. I do
not think nyan migrate — that is, to any distance. Of
course they must follow the course of the seasons, and
seek places where grass is obtainable ; but I should say a
distance of twenty miles would cover the extent of their
migration. Wherever they are, the old rams seem to have
the peculiar faculty of concealing themselves from human
view, and it requires an immense amount of travel, and a
pair of good Tibetan eyes, besides a first-class pair of
binoculars, to spot them. General Kinloch has had a
good deal of experience in hunting these gigantic wild
sheep, and he possesses more than the ordinary faculty of
observation ; his opinion, therefore, should be received with
respect. He writes : " After a lengthened experience, I
can unhesitatingly affirm that there is no animal so difficult
to stalk as a male nyan." Colonel Ward, in his Sports-
man's Guide, says : " The difficulty of obtaining specimens
of this fine sheep is made the most of by many writers,
nor is it as rare, nor as difficult to obtain, as some
sportsmen would have us believe." The latter, too, is a
man of observation and experience, and I incline to his
opinion. The nyan to me seemed rather wanting in
intelligence, and endowed with his full share of ovine
stupidity. Once found, the ram can easily be circumvented
with patience and perseverance.

I returned to Shiishal on the 20 th July, and proceeeded
next to my shooting ground in the Chang-chen-mo.

13

CHAPTEE XIII

SPOET IN CIIANG-CHEN-MO

Paljour, the old shikari— Sarap is "run in"— His iniquities— Leave Shushal
—The Pangong lake— Its absent beauties— Reverend Mr. Eedslob—
Dalgleish's murderer— Reverend Dr. Lansdell — Commissariat and
transport for a month's trip— The "Great River "—Kiam camp— Bag
my first Tibetan antelope— Description of the Chang-chen-mo country —
Gograng camp— Madmar camp — Explore the Chang-lung— Nyan at
last— A fatiguing stalk— Another tramp— Miss chanku (wolf)— Servants
from Leh arrive — Yakub's hard work comes to an end — A rare servant
— A final exploration — Curious glaciers in Gograng— A weird and
oppressive scene — Inaccurate maps — Return to Kiam — Correct name of
Gogi'ang — A change in the weather for the worse.

At Shushal I found that Sarap had returned from Lukung,
where I had sent him to make arrangements for my trip
to Chang-chen-mo while I was nyan-hunting in the Dong-
lung : he reported everything ready, and had brought with
him old Paljour, Colonel Ward's shikari. This was a
stroke of luck, as he knew the ground thoroughly, and had
great experience in yak-hunting in the Chang-chen-mo.
Though he was old and blear-eyed, and his sight none of
the best, I found him of great use to me ; there was some
CO in him yet. To my astonishment I also found waiting
a warrant for the arrest of Sarap, issued by the Joint
Commissioner of Ladakh, and a sepoy to take him into
custody. There was, further, a letter addressed to the
" Master of Sarap," explaining that this individual was

194

LEAVE SHUSHAL 195

wanted on several criminal charges which had been
pending since his last visit, two years ago ! It appeared
that he had been plundering the people wholesale, beating
head-men, etc., and, when he was reported to the authorities,
ileserted his former employer and ran away, leaving the
latter to bear the brunt. He harried the country again
when I entered Ladakh, and I heard many tales of his
lawlessness while he was away from me at Lukiing and
other villages. He was a well-known character in these
parts. As soon as the head-man of Shushal recognised
Sarap, he sent information to headquarters, and the warrant
came down for him at once. This is the sort of rascal
who, with profit to himself, earns an evil reputation for
his employer in these out-of-the-way countries : such
scamps are seldom if ever caught, but their masters
have to answer for their iniquities, and compensate the
aggrieved parties as best they can.

Heavy rain was continuous from the time I ceased
shooting in the Dong-lung : the " bangla " at Shushal was
no protection, and I had to sleep under my umbrella and
waterproof in the best room to keep dry. My little tent
was certainly more comfortable, and I was glad to make a
start ; wet though the weather was, it was pleasanter to be
out in the clean open country than suffer blue devils in a
leaky and evil-smelling mud hut. I had breakfast on the
road in wind and rain, and made camp at Khaktat
village, only a few miles from Shushal ; but before I could
get under the shelter of the tent, the sun was pouring
down; it was fearfully hot — such are the varieties of
climate in these regions ! In the evening it was stormy
again, dark clouds hanging all round, while the howling
wind lashed the broad Pangong lake into white-crested
waves. I had seen nothing of the beauties of this lake yet.
The descriptions I read had raised my expectations ; but

196 SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

I was greatly disappointed with my first view of the
largest sheet of water known to exist at such a great
elevation, and which also has a name that no other
country in the world could match. Here it is — Tso-mo-
nang-lari, or Pangong ! It is said to be forty miles in
length and, in some parts, four miles broad, and it is-
nearly 14,000 feet above sea level; the waters are saline.
I did not notice their "lovely colours," nor the "richest
blue," nor the " sapphire tint " of the waves when disturbed
by wind, about which other tourists had raved. Under
the conditions which prevailed when I travelled along its
shore, it appeared most uninteresting. Its waters are sa
salt that every living thing avoids them ; there are no fish,
I never saw a bird, and nothing green grows on its margin.
At the village of Man, on the way to Lukiing, an old
woman offered me for one rupee the skull of an Ovis
ammon, picked up near the Pangiir-tso, in a valley near
Eishan, where I had been shooting ; the horns were thirty-
six inches in length : I did not buy. I met on the way a
gentleman who was called by the people " Kilang Sahib,"
a name that puzzled me, until I discovered that the owner
was the late Eev. Mr. Kedslob, thus called by the
Ladakhis, because he came from the Moravian Mission at
Kailang. We had tea together, and he gave me the news
from Leh. One of Dalgleish's murderers, said to be a
Panjabi fakir, had been caught ; the Eev. Dr. Lansdell, the
great traveller, was expected in a couple of months, on his
way to the Grand Lama at Lahsa, and Mr. Eedslob was
preparing a letter in the Tibetan language for him. This,
journey never came off. I reached the valley of Paobrang
at noon, and found one returned sportsman there from
Chang-chen-mo. I had dinner with him, and heard with
sympathy his grievances connected with a hardly-averted
disaster in the Egyptian campaign, of which he seemed to

O

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<

COMMISSARIAT AND TRANSPORT 197

have been made the scapegoat. Though this occurred
some time ago, he was still brooding over his troubles, and
was wearing his heart out in these lonely regions, because
he could find no means to vindicate himself from the
aspersions cast on him and his regiment by an incompetent
general. I heard from him that only one man was now
in my prospective shooting ground — a colonel, who was
not likely to do much damage to the game, but who would
certainly disturb them a good deal by indiscriminate
firing.

Supplies and carriage must be procured from Lukiing
and Tankse for the trip into the uninhabited country
beyond the Marsemik - la. Xothing whatever is pro-
curable there ; even grass and fuel are rarely found,
and camping-places have to be arranged accordingly. I
took with me eight yaks, two ponies, and a small flock of
milch goats, and supplies sufficient for a month's tramp for
myself and my followers. To avoid delay, a reliable
servant should be sent on in advance, for necessaries to
Tankse, and for transport animals to Lukung. Everything
should be ready for the sportsman on his arrival at the
latter place. In my case I sent on the scoundrel Sariip,
who certainly did make all arrangements, but doubtless at
a profit. By so managing, I avoided the necessity of halting
anywhere on the road from Shiishal till I was well within
my shooting ground, thus saving a lot of time and trouble.
Nearing Kiam, after two days' march through desolate
country, we saw signs of a camp, which turned out to be
the colonel's last coolies just leaving ; he himself had
departed an hour before, and was going on to Xing-rhi up
the valley. He was evidently leaving this shooting ground,
so I could not have timed my entry better. I sent a note
to the colonel asking about his movements ; he replied
that he was now on his way back to Ladakh, and was

198 SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

kind enough to send me a most welcome parcel of papers.
He also volunteered the information that he had left an
antelope at Kiam with a fine pair of antlers ; and he
advised me to go after it — the buck had eluded him.
This must have been the animal I bagged the same
evening : he had a fine pair of horns. As soon as we
reached Kiam, Paljour started on the game-path at once ;
he saw two antelope up the valley, and we went for a stalk
in the evening. We got within two hundred yards, and I
had a steady shot with the Winchester off Paljour's back.
The buck was hit a little too far back in the small ribs,
and gave us a long chase ; I hit him twice again before he
could be brought to bay. I remained two days at Kiam,
resting, making up cartridges, and preparing for a hunt in
the Gograng valley. Kiam is well situated for a main
camp whence to make excursions into the various valleys
where game is found. There is a good deal of grass along
the river, and the baggage animals can get grazing.

The principal valley of Chaug-chen-mo runs directly east
and west, and the length of the river, which runs along
it from near the Lanak-la in the north-west to its
junction with the Shyok, is, perhaps, seventy-five miles.
The level does not extend more than four miles in its
broadest part, and its total breadth, from crest to crest of
the highest enclosing ranges, north and south, is about
thirty miles. From Pamzal to the mouth of the river, a
distance of about thirty miles, it is said to run very
rapidly in a narrow rocky channel. This lower portion of
the valley has been rarely visited, and no game is to be
found there. The part which will most interest sportsmen
is from Pamzal to the eastern border of the valley — a
distance, say, of forty-five miles. The principal valleys
which drain into the Chang-chen-mo (great river), and
where all the varieties of game are found, I give below.

DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY 199

(1) Gogrung (the most northerly), about twenty-eight
miles in length. Its side valleys on the left (as you go
up) are the most likely to contain game. If there are
any wild yaks in Gograng, they will be found in Longnak-
gongma, one of these side valleys, or the smaller ones
above. In the lower will be found Ovis ammon, barhal,
also antelope, on the slopes between the mouths of the
valleys and the course of the stream. The highest point
of the main valley, called Phu-Gograng, is blocked with
glaciers and debris, and holds no game, as no grass grows
there. The right of the Gograng stream, as you look up,
is bounded by an almost straight mountain range, pierced
by only one opening, by which the waters of Chang-lung-
gongma are drained into the Gograng stream. I would
here observe that there is a serious mistake in the G. T.

Survey Map (Quarter sheet, No. -^] ^^ this point. The

opening I have mentioned is not given ; the mountain
range being shown in one solid length, from the head of
the valley to Gogra. The mistake is misleading, as
Chang-hing-gongma is a long valley, and of some im-
portance— to sportsmen, at anyrate — because it generally
holds nyan and wild yak, when they are travelling to and
from Gograng. They cross over into Chang-lung-gongma,
and enter the former by the said opening. If the hunter
is in Gograng looking for yaks, he should keep a constant
watch on this gap. He will either find the animals them-
selves near it, or their tracks, if they have had time to
pass up into the upper part of the larger valley.

(2) Changlung. {a) Kongma is the valley mentioned
above, for which no exit is allowed in the map ; it is
about fifteen miles in length, and narrow, and there is a
considerable stream. The slopes on the left bank, as you
go up, are grassy ; on the right, the mountain sides are

200 SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

steep, abrupt, stony, and difficult to climb. It is a good
find for Ovis ammon, and, at certain times, for wild yak.
(h) Yokma, the next valley, almost a half-moon in shape,
is barren and open, with little water and less grass ; game
is consequently rarely found here.

(3) Keipsang, the next, is a narrow side valley. There
is a little grass along the course of the stream, above the
camping-place, for a couple of miles, where a travelling
wild yak may be found by the lucky sportsman, as
these animals pass along this path on their journey to
Gograng. I got my first yak at Keipsang. Antelope
may be found on the grassy plots and hillsides in the
lower part of the valley. Kiamgo Traggar is about
twenty-five miles in length. On the north the valley is
bounded by a range of mountains. Some of the short
side valleys running down south from this range contain
grass along their bottoms and on the slopes. A travelling-
path of wild yak runs along these slopes ; the grass is, of
course, the attraction. The southern slopes of the range
are therefore very good places for wild yak, at the proper
season. I got two here, and could, no doubt, have shot
more by staying on.

(4) Tatta-Hor. The survey map before referred to is
at fault with regard to this valley also, and the mistake is
a greater one than that last mentioned. The name " Tatta-
Hor " does not appear at all, the valley seems to be wrongly
sketched in, and the watershed of this portion of Chang-
chen-mo has certainly been incorrectly laid down. The
sportsman will do well not to place too much reliance on
the map as regards this end of the valley, but, as there is
not much game in that direction, the error probably
will not affect him. With the exception of antelope,
which were in large numbers, game was scarce. I saw
only old traces of wild yak, and none at all of Ovis

DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY 201

amnion. Exploring these valleys would take some days,
and I do not think the sport would repay the time and
trouble.

(5) There are several small valleys running into the
main valley from the range of mountains on the south.
None of these is more than five miles in length nor one
mile in breadth, and are good finds for Ovis amnion,
provided they have not been too much disturbed. These
nalas are so small that the animals are soon frightened
away when there has been any shooting. In former years,
wild yaks, too, were found here, and a few were shot, but
now these animals appear to have given up visiting this
portion of the valley, owing probably to the increasing
number of sportsmen, who seem to visit the Silungs more
frequently than other parts. Between Kiam and Pamzal
there is no shooting ground to speak of ; the last is the
valley leading down the Chang-chen-mo Pass (Marsemik-la)
to Pamzal, about twenty miles. Ovis ainmon will be
found along this route early or late in the season, when
there is good grass.

The mountains which surround the valley of the " Great
Eiver" have a nearly uniform height of 20,000 feet; near
the head of Gograng only do they exceed that figure by a
few hundreds. The passes range from 18,000 to 19,000
feet, and, as the level of the valley may be between 15,000
and 16,000 feet, the sportsman has no great heights
to climb. Experience will soon teach him, nevertheless,
that going up hill at these altitudes entails uncommonly
hard work on the lunos. His Ladakhi followers will set a
good example, for they take things easily. What sport
one obtains depends, as I think you have discovered now,
on the weather. Few situations more cruelly tax one's
patience than having to sit or lie in the small tent, and
listen to the Tibetan gale tearing at the ropes, while the

202 SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

snow or sleet creeps in through every crevice, and all the
while you know for certain that game is on the hillside
not a mile away.

On the 27th July I made my camp in Gograng, with the
intention of first doing that valley ; but when I reached
Gogra I was met by some coolies belonging to my pre-
decessor's camp carrying away the last of his traps ; he had
them apparently scattered in many places. I at first
thought myself lucky, being under the impression that the
gallant sportsman had come into this ground very early,
and had remained stationary for two months, so keeping out
all subsequent prospectors ; but I soon found that I had
deceived myself. It was the custom of this sportsman to
enjoy the luxury of his bed (a very strong temptation,
indeed, I must confess) during the early hours of the
morning, while his shikaris scoured the valleys. When
game was found, information was sent to him, and he then
proceeded to the stalk, — if it was not a very difficult one,
— and, getting within a comfortably long range, he would
open fire and keep it up while the animals were in sight.
In this way he managed to bag a couple of cow yak and
some antelope. But the consequences to myself were
disastrous. The men knocking about all day, and the
indiscriminate firing, had driven all the game to the sky-
line, while all the good heads had disappeared entirely. I
remained twelve days in Gograng, explored every corner of
it, and got seven shots ! True, my predecessor was good
enough to leave at the best season, and I replaced him just
in the nick of time for wild yak ; but his reprehensible
way of loosing off emptied the valley with little profit to
himself, and less to his successor. My camp was pitched
a short distance above Gogra. It was not cold, but during
the night rain came on, and continued till morning. At
noon I moved again, and made camp two and a half miles

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EXPLORE THE CHANG-LUNG 203

farther up. Paljour advised me not to take the tent any
higlier, as the fires would disturb the game. I started out
next day to view the country and decide upon my course.
We went as far as Longnek, but saw nothing excepting a
few napu (barhal) high up on the range to our left. We
tried to stalk, but they were much too wide-awake, and
went up to the sky-line at once and disappeared on the
other side ; they evidently knew all about us. The
Longnek was the first place, Paljour said, where wild yak
were likely to be found ; but we saw no sign of dong
(wild yak) anywhere. I was told afterwards that my
predecessor had shot his two small animals in this place.
After breakfast, Paljour went on three miles farther round
the bend, to the other side of the Gograng stream, but
came across no traces of game ; and we got back to camp,
pretty well fagged out, at nine o'clock. The going was very
slow after dark. I was very much disappointed, and my
thoughts of the preceding occupant were uncharitable.
Next day we took the camp on to Madmar, two hours' travel,
on the opposite side of the valley, just below the entrance
of the Chang-lung stream, and, after making things snug,
sent all the baggage yaks, ponies, and extra men down to
Pangur, to remain there till wanted. Early next morning
we started for a day in the Chang-lung, the only valley on
the north side of the Gograng. After travelling steadily
for about eight miles, we spotted five nyan just in front,
grazing along up the valley. When first seen they were
nearly a mile ahead, and the wind was blowing right
towards them from our direction ; but they did not wind
us, and shortly after they went about fifty yards up the
hillside and lay up for their mid-day sleep. Then we
began the stalk, straight up hill for two hours, to get out
of their sight. After a very long and rough scramble, we at
last got round and above them — the most important object

204 SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

in a stalk, and the one which must be accomplished at any-
cost, if success is to be achieved. We could not, however,
from the open nature of the slope below us, get closer
than two hundred yards. The nyan were all lying down
at their ease ; and the largest ram was the closest. We
had to remain watching them for more than an hour before
they stirred. Two then got up and began smelling about,
and, grazing down towards the bottom of the valley, they
disappeared ; the rest, except the big fellow, the laziest of
the lot, soon followed ; he never stirred till the others were
out of sight. He was evidently very stiff, for he made two
or three attempts before he stood up. His horns were a
fine pair, full sized and beautifully curved, and the tips
had the outward curve which gives the finishing touch to
a perfect head. Paljour was lying motionless on his
stomach in front of me ; I put the Winchester across his
back and took a steady aim — one inch behind the
animal's tail ! — this after mature deliberation, and with all
my faculties in good working order. It was a beautiful
shot, for the bullet hit exactly the point aimed at. A
miss is a mystery to outsiders, and the above must seem
the most extraordinary of them all ; but the rifle placed
the bullet where it was aimed, so it could hardly be called
a miss. The third nyan and the antelope I shot near Kiam
camp were both hit by the first shot in the hind leg. This
was caused, I imagined, by the strong wind which
deflected the bullet. I had had several days to consider
this matter, which exercised me a good deal, and having
determined to make good allowance for wind next time,
1 did so, with the result described. I must confess that,
although a wind was blowing, I discovered, after the shot
was fired, that it was not coming from the right, but from
the game and towards me. I cannot explain my failure to
notice this important detail : the wind may have changed

ANOTHER TRAMP 205

suddenly, or it was simply a stupid oversight. Whatever
the cause, the lamentable result was brought home quite
clearly to my understanding when I saw the white rump
of the big sheep vanish over the nearest mountain swell.
I had two random shots as he was crossing the stream
below among the boulders ; but the splashing of the
bullets about him served only to take the stiffness out of
his limbs. The whole lot ran up the opposite range, and
when near the crest went along what seemed a path, and
crossed into the Gograng valley, evidently by a pass well
known and well used by them. If ovines think, it may
be presumed that the old ram, as he worked his stiff
legs up the steep, must have said to himself, " That
pottering old colonel again ; he rattled me out of Gograng
a few days ago, and now he is at it again. I wish he
wouldn't."

Next day, the post having arrived, I remained in camp.
Paljour went up the Chang-liing again, intending to cross to
Chang-lung-yokma to hunt after fresh yak tracks, as this
was the time of the year for them to put in an appearance,
and this was their usual road. The day before, we had
seen some old tracks at the mouth of the valley, and the
prints of the colonel's boots following them into Gograng :
so one herd had evidently crossed over a few days pre-
viously, and Paljour inferred that others would now be
travelling along the same track.

On the 4th of August I started for the upper valley, for
Paljour had been unsuccessful in his search the day before.
I took two yaks and the small tent ; the other tent
remained at Madniar. "VVe went up the right side of
Gograng, whose slopes command a good view of the
opposite valley, where all the game is supposed to be. I
came across several antelopes, but would not fire for fear
of disturbing other game. We made camp in a small

2o6 SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

nala with steep sides well concealed from view. After the
tent was pitched, I took a walk down the ravine and
spotted a wolf, who had just topped the ridge to
my right. I ran back for the rifle, but he was two
hundred yards off before I could fire, and I missed him.
He looked small, and was yellowish-white in colour, some-
what similar to the antelope; I could distinctly see his
white paws (Canis paUi2Jes). In the afternoon we went
along the base of the range towards the head of the
valley, and after a rough three hours' walk I sat down,
and Paljour went on to explore. He had not gone two
hundred yards when he beckoned to me, having seen five
nyan quite close ; they were, he said, the very five of the
day before, over which I had so blundered in the Chang-
liing valley. They had bolted in this direction, and
Paljour had promised me another shot in a couple of days ;
he was as good as his word. "We stalked for about five
hundred yards, and came on the animals at exactly the
proper point ; they were about one hundred yards below us.
I had a capital rest on a rock, and the biggest ram was
again the nearest, grazing with his right shoulder towards
me. I did not aim under his tail this time, but straight
for the shoulder, and made a most satisfactory shot. The
ovis ran down the hillside for about twenty yards and
rolled over. The others fled across the stream and valley
to the opposite range, and I had no chance of another shot.
Paljour said we should meet them again in a couple of
days. The nyan was a large animal, the biggest of the lot
— an ugly beast, with long lanky legs, a big stomach, and
the hair coming off his skin in patches ; but his head was
a noble trophy. The horns measured forty and thirty -nine
inches round the curve and seventeen inches round the
base. This was the best head I secured. When Paljour
came in, he showed me little splashes of lead sticking to

SERVANTS FROM LEH 207

the ram's hair. These, he averred, were from the bullets I
fired at the ram two days before when he was crossing the
stream, my shots haviDg splashed off boulders. We
moved camp across the main valley to the mouth of the
Longser on the other range, explored the valley, and found
it empty.

The Joint Commissioner at Leh laid me under an eternal
obligation by sending me two servants in place of the rascal
Sarap ; they arrived with the post. 'No one was more
grateful for this kindly thought than little Ydki'ib, who, it
will be remembered, was the only one of my Indian servants
who did not collapse at the foot of the Baralacha Pass. He
was the only servant I had had from that time to the
arrival of the men from Leh, for Sarap counted for nothing.
Yiikiib had all the work of the camp to perform, and he
did it manfully and well, with the help of the coolies and
yakmen. He had to pitch the tents and take them down
almost every day, make things inside comfortable, do all
the cooking for me and for himself, look after Chamiirti,
whom he groomed every day and fed with cakes when
there was no grazing ; — all these duties, be it noted, in
addition to a long march almost daily. He had no caste
prejudices ; he drank my tea from my teapot and ate the
same food that I had. His only luxury was a pipe, and
he would have dearly loved a glass of whisky after a day's
labours ; but during the whole of my long journey he never
once abstracted a drop, though the temptation must have
been sore indeed. These traits are not common in a
Hindustani Musalman. My experience with this man
showed how useful a servant of his stamp can be when
untrammelled with the prejudices of the caste-beridden
peoples of India. In addition, Yaki'ib was cleanly in his
habits : he brushed his teeth every morning with a
civilised Western tooth-brush, and, more remarkable, he used

2o8 SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

soap every day ! He was also the handiest man I ever
came across : he mended my boots and clothes, patched
the tent, kept the saddlery clean, was a capital horseman,
a first-rate taxidermist, a born shikari, and by no means a
bad cook. All these accomplishments were acquired in
the household of the late General Gott, where he was
brought up from boyhood. Of course he had his faults :
though a little man, he had a big ugly temper, and made
himself feared and hated wherever he went ; he also had a
weakness for liquor, when legitimately procurable, and he
was an unpleasant customer in his cups.

On the 7th of August I made a long and final journey
to the head of the Gograng valley. After passing Pangta
we came to a large glacier, along which the four nyan had
bolted, after their patriarch had been slain. Moraines
lay on every side, and round the foot of the glacier was
the usual indescribable chaos. The walking was most
difficult, but we crossed below the glacier at its very
snout where water and snow were frozen, and the walking
was comparatively easy. About the centre of the glacier,
where the main stream issues from beneath, the muddy
water gushed up with great violence in the form of a
natural fountain about two feet in height, falling in an
ever-moving dome. The breadth of the glacier at its
extremity was about three hundred yards, and its perpen-
dicular height about fifty yards. Peaks, pinnacles, steeples,
and needles of frozen snow were visible above. Besides
the dirty stream rushing out from below, little rills were
pouring from all sides, as if the icy mass were sweat-
ing in the sun ; one jet spouted from a small hole in the
solid ice. I saw no sign of transparent ice. The whole
mass had the appearance of a solid mountain of consolidated
snow, quite different from other glaciers I had seen. It
was a grand scene, and the weird surroundings took strong

INACCURATE MAPS 209

hold of my imagination ; they had a similar effect on my
companions, who said it was a " bad " place, which should
be passed by as quickly as possible, and Paljour's steps
were hasty as he led the way across. We went up the
valley till it divided into two narrow ravines. The
smaller seemed to be a short side nala, down which flowed
a stream. The other, no doubt the commencement of the
main Gograng valley, could be viewed for some distance ;
it was choked with a serpentine glacier. We could see
nothing beyond but a steep, stony mountain ridge streaked
with snow, evidently the summit of the valley, and the
dividing line. After Pangta the small higher valleys
have no separate names ; the whole of the upper portion
is called Phu-Gograng, or " Head of Gograng." After
passing the glacier with the muddy fountain, the hillsides
become very stony and abrupt. We reached our farthest
point, but found no sight whatever of game ; there was no
animal in the valley larger than a marmot. No doubt my
predecessor's two months of wild shooting had frightened
every animal away, for the rest of the season at anyrate.

The official map of Chang-chen-mo, it may be observed,
and probably that of the whole of this part of Ladakh,
perpetuates many serious mistakes.

We began our return from the head of the valley at
noon, and found the tracks of the four nyan which
had fled across in this direction when the big ram was
shot ; we followed them up the hillside in the Pangta
valley, and found the beds where they had slept, but could
not discover the animals themselves. They had had a good
scare, and must have been lurking somewhere near the
sky-line — a very unusual thing for these large animals.
I was not very keen about them ; none of the four had a
good head ; I had secured the best.

The next day I returned to Madmar camp, gave up the
14

2IO SPORT IN CHANG-CHEN-MO

hunt in Gograng as hopeless, and returned to Kiam,
passing Gogra camping-place on the way, where I halted
for breakfast. This camp is on the right bank of the
Gograng stream, just below its junction with Chang-lung
stream. " Go " means door or gate, and there is really
some resemblance, for Gogra looks as if it were the gate-
way into Gograng. That night at Kiam there was a severe
storm ; the Gograng hills were covered with snow nearly
down to their bases, and something stronger than the normal
gale began to blow up the Chang-chen-mo valley. Kiam
camp was very uncomfortable, as the position is much
exposed. This probably was the turning-point between
the short summer and the shorter autumn which ushers
in the very long winter. I may note that the change
occurred on the 9th August.

CHAPTER XIV

DONG (wild yak) SHOOTING

Start oil the hunt— Shoot an antelope— The first dong track— Paljour takes
up the scent— A black spot in the distance— Resolved into a bull-yak—
Seventy yards range— I miss the target, four feet by six— The second
shot tells— The bull slows down— Circumvent him at last— A butcherly
business— The usual reaction— Piercing cold— The Tibetan gale— A
snowstorm— Exhaustion— Tea and blankets— No remedy— The frozen
dong— A splendid trophy— Bullets and their wounds— Hunting twenty
thousand feet above sea level— The temperature falls— No water
procurable— Yakiib's excitement over the dong's head and hide— A
keen sportsman— Invents a bow— And hunts the tailless Tibetan rat
successfully- Weight of the dong's head— Length of the horns— The
hunt continued— Tibetan gi'ouse- More wild yaks— A successful stalk—
•500 bore bullets and their effect on the dong— Shepherds and sheep-
How the Maharajah trades— The Champa robbers— Their depredations
—Varying temperatures— Three wild yak bagged in a week— A record
performance— Give up the hunt— Weights and measurements of heads
and horus— Details of cost of expedition.

On the 10 th of August we started for Keipsang, with
four yaks and fifteen days' provisions, for a long search
after wild yak ; crossed the valley and went up gradually
to what is called the Konka-la in the map, a name which
is not known locally. The path runs just under the
conical red hill which is visible from Kiam camp, the
" pass " is just under it, and the Keipsang valley opens
out to view as soon as the crest is reached. The ascent
is hardly perceptible. Just as we topped it, Paljour spied
nine antelope on the stony plain below, and we went after

211

212 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

them at once. They were below the bank of the stream,
and we got very close, but just then the biggest buck
topped the bank about a hundred yards away, then there
was hurry and confusion, and I missed the big one. A
second shot, however, broke his fore leg, and a third shot
bowled over a smaller one at over two hundred yards. I
was using the Winchester again. We followed up the
wounded antelope for a long time, but could not find him.

The sun was hot, I was blown and tired — and the
usual thing happened. How often does not the " usual
thing " happen ! The wounded buck had hidden himself
somewhere so effectually that I gave up the hunt and
handed the rifle to Paljour to carry. He went along the
ridge, I lazily following ; suddenly the antelope appeared on
the sky-line, on a level, but at some distance from Paljour,
and about a hundred yards from me. The buck stood for
some time motionless, and had a good look at us — tableau !
We all three stood like statues. As the buck went over the
ridge, I rushed up for the rifle, and had six shots, missing
every time ; nothing under six shots would have relieved
my feelings. The wounded animal made for another slope
higher up, and I had two good hours' further toil in the
hot sun before he was mine ; the moral is, of course,
always obvious, but cui bono ? Like other fellows, I shall
do the same thing till the end of the chapter.

Next day was my red-letter dong day. We left camp
at six to explore the upper Keipsang valley for traces of
wild yak ; but with little hope. We had not gone very
far along a kiang track when Paljour noticed the broad
hoof-marks of a large yak leading up the valley. He
decided that it was four days old, but was worth following,
especially as the animal was travelling in the direction
we were going. After a short distance the track bent
towards the stream flowing at the bottom of the valley,

PALJOUR TAKES UP THE SCENT 21^

and the marks showed distiucLly iu the damp earth.
Paljour began to think the footprints more recent, and
quickened his pace ; presently he came to some droppings,
and exclaimed, " It is only two days old ! " Farther on we
passed more dung, and Paljour with great animation
declared that the animal had passed along here only the
day before. The tracking was carried on with great
diligence now, for we were evidently on the track of a
very large bull, and he could not be far off. As we got
farther into the folds of the valley our caution increased,
and old Paljour, who led the way, became the embodiment
of circumspection. We made a careful survey of the
ground ahead from every bend in the valley, and scanned
every slope and hollow with the greatest minuteness ; our
advance was consequently very slow. It was necessary to
exercise such care, because the wind was blowing up the
valley to our quarry. It thus became a regular game : if
the dong scented us first, he would win ; if we saw him
first, we should score. At one of these turns, while
Paljour, myself, and the coolie boy carrying my tiffin
were lying prone on the slope of a rise, Pamber, the boy,
drew Paljour's attention, albeit dubiously, to a black spot
on the slope of a distant stony hill. Paljour said it was a
rock; we had made many such mistakes before. Even
after a careful look through the binoculars, none of us
could say positively what it was, but, when the long
telescope was brought to bear, we found that the supposed
rock was our quarry — an enormous bull taking his rest.
He was certainly not less than two miles away, and was
high up on the slope, so he could not possibly scent us ;
we had won the first move in the game. We dropped
under cover at once, and lay there nearly two hours, till
nine o'clock, waiting till his bovine lordship had finished
his " Europe morning " ; but he did not move excepting once.

214 ■ DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

to change sides. We could not go farther along the bottom
of the valley for fear of the wind, so Paljour decided to
go back to the first side valley on our left, and then strike
up the hillside for the crest of the range. It was a toil-
some grind to the sky-line, and, after proceeding along the
crest, we peeped over. The old bull had at last got up, and
was feeding in a side valley next the one in which he
had been lying. We trudged over the intervening ridges
and depressions till we came to the one where he was
grazing. He was busily engaged, hardly taking his mouth
from the grass for minutes at a time, and not moving ten
feet in any direction ; he was breakfasting, and had
evidently a good appetite. We crept down till we were
on a level with him, but there were still two hundred yards
between us, and we could get no closer. I determined to
wait till he came nearer, or went down the next depression.
He did neither, but remained grazing on one spot not ten
yards square. I got tired of watching, so had a biscuit
and stretched myself, leaving Paljour to watch. I should
say I had half a dozen naps within fifteen minutes, and a
fresh dream during every nap — about two minutes to a
dream. After this quick succession of nightmares (or
day-mares), I sat up, and then suddenly came a puff of
wind from behind us and towards our game, which made
Paljour and myself start up together. We hurried back
at once to the next depression, dreading every moment
lest the dong should get our scent and be off. Paljour
now changed his tactics and went down nearly to the
bottom of the main valley, and then proceeded up along
that, till we came to the dip in the hillside in which the
animal was feeding. Then we ascended till we got on a
level with him again within less than a hundred yards. By
sitting up, I could just see the top of his back moving above
the swell in the ground which separated us, and I cocked

I MISS THE TARGET 215

the rifle, ready to fire whenever he showed his shoulder ;
but he gave a turn and lay down facing us. By raising
my head, I could see his horns and the top of his head ;
six inches higher, and our eyes would have met. Here was
a fix : the tension was getting unbearable, when Paljour
pointed to a rock in front of us forty yards away, and
whispered that if we got there I could have a shot at his
shoulder. So we backed, and got behind the little rock,
and there found ourselves within seventy yards of the
still unconscious game, but his horns and head were still
facing us, and we were on the slope below him — he had
us completely under his command. The only alternative
was to rise slowly and give him the shot in the chest as he
rose. This was a ticklish business with a single rifle, and
only a -450 at that. If the huge beast charged, he could
easily grind us into the hillside. However, it had to be
done, or my only chance would be lost. I rose slowly
up, not in a very comfortable state of mind, but with my
nerves braced and steady; the bull rose too and stared.
I fired with deliberate aim, and missed. The bullet passed
his left shoulder, and^ clapped loudly on the hillside in
the distance. It was the hand of Providence. I was
quite collected and steady, and the target, seventy yards
off, was four feet broad by six feet high. Had the bullet
struck, the maddened bull would have been down on us,
and one, if not both of us, would have been killed.

Things turned out differently. The dong rushed
round the hillside to my right, and I had time to put in
another cartridge, and gave him another shot at a hundred
yards as he rushed along. This shot was a hundred
times more difficult than the first, but I placed the bullet
fairly in the centre of his body. I heard it tell loudly
on his ribs ; but the yak only went the faster. A third
bullet went after him as he topped the swell, but there

2i6 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

was no visible result. We, too, ran round the swell, but
lower down, and found the bull standing on the slope of
the next valley looking rather sick. I fired again, but
with no result. The bull now attempted to go up hill,
but could not manage it ; he turned and ran down to the
level of the main valley, and started to go along the bottom,
but soon subsided into a short, quick walk. His gait was
very characteristic ; it was evident his temper was up, as,
witness the angry flourishes of his bushy tail. The effect
was heightened by the swaying to and fro of his long
black shaggy hair, which hung all round below his knees
like a thick curtain ; seen from behind, it resembled the
swaying of a kilt when the wearer is stepping out his best.
The whole action of the old Bos seemed to say, " I don't
want to fight, but by jingo if I do ! " His pace, however,
decreased by degrees as I watched him through the
glasses, and soon became very slow, for the poor beast had
a mortal wound. It was past noon now, and, as I had no
intention of letting the poor brute escape thus wounded,
I sent Pamber back to bring up the camp, resolved to
follow the bull, and finish him off as quickly as I could.

I had a snack, and we started again. At this un-
lucky moment the wind changed again, and blew right
to the dong ; the consequence was, that after passing a
turn we saw him rise slowly from the ground and resume
his slow walk. We had to stop and keep him in view.
The valley was narrow, with steep stony hillsides, and
there was no way of heading him, except by climbing right
up to the sky-line and getting round to the head of the
valley. It was a terrible task labouring up those steep
hillsides in that rarefied atmosphere ; the highest point
we reached could not have been much under twenty
thousand feet. The bull came slowly on up a narrow gully.
The track, no doubt, was well known to him, as it led into

A BUTCHERLY BUSINESS 217

the Chang-lung valley, and so on to Gograng, and he was
evidently travelling to that grazing ground wlien we
discovered him. We had no choice but to get on the
steep slope above him and cut him off from the pass.
We got up the side of the hill on our right and then mounted
slowly to get out of his view, but the hill was so steep that
it was a long time before we could effect our purpose, and
the climb was a most trying ordeal. We did at last get
him under cover, and then worked round and placed our-
selves between him and the only possible line of escape.
Then the miserable wind changed again ; the weather had
become cloudy, and now, just as we were well placed, the
icy blast came straight down from the Keipsang-la, and
through us (literally) on to the wounded animal, bringing
with it a cutting sleet-storm. We became desperate,
rushed down to the bottom of the gully, and went for the
bull helter-skelter. He, of course, scented us, and was
standing up facing in our direction, when we sighted him
a hundred yards off. He did not seem inclined to move
either up or down the nald, which at this point was not
ten yards broad, with almost perpendicular sides, and gazed
at us steadily, as immovable as a rock. We thought dis-
cretion the better part of valour, and hastily clawed
ourselves up the hillside on the left ; it was like a rocky
wall, with very insecure footing, but we negotiated it in
quick time, and came on the old bull again at forty yards
and above him. I opened fire on the poor brute, but he
took several solid bullets without attempting to escape, and
at last succumbed to his many wounds.

The shades of evening were closing round us when he
sank and died : the icy gale shrieked and tore through the
rugged gully, and a snowstorm was fast shrouding every-
thing in a white mantle. I had bagged my first wild yak,
and had won " the blue ribbon of Himalayan shooting,"

2iS DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

but felt no exultation. I was sorry for the poor beast, and
besides, my very soul was shivering within me from the
intense cold, and the void within craved for a full pot of
hot, very hot, tea. Fortunately, the yaks had come up
with the camp ; we had not gone half a mile when we
met them. I had the tent pitched, and was under shelter
and taking the nourishment I so much needed in a very
short time. The storm continued, and the cold was intense
— everything was frozen, so I got under the blankets and
made myself as snug as I could. The arrival of the tent
was just in the nick of time ; in half an hour darkness
would have overtaken us out on that bleak hillside. I
had been out on the hill thirteen hours at a very high
elevation, most of the time undergoing severe physical
toil and no small mental excitement. The reaction which
should have set in with the cessation of work did not
come, and I could not sleep. The fearful weather, which
only two folds of cloth kept from me, added much to my
discomfort.

Xext morning, when the storm lulled, we visited the
bull. The snow had shrouded the hills and valleys in
white, and so dazzling was the brilliancy that I had to
put on my goggles, though there was no sun-glare. The
morning was bitterly cold, and it was still cloudy. We
found the dong frozen ; he had died in a folded-up sitting
position, and felt as hard as a rock, being coated with
hardened snow. Nothing could be done with the huge
bulk till the sun came out and thawed it. The operation
of cutting off his head alone took more than two hours ;
the skinning and cutting up took the whole day. The
trophy was a magnificent one : I had never imagined such
massiveness and beauty. The second bullet I fired hit in
the right ribs, went through the liver, and was found
on the ribs on the left side, splayed like a mushroom

BULLETS AND THEIR WOUNDS 219

about twelve-bore size. It was a solid bullet of 320 grs.,
and had 125 grs. of powder behind it, fired at a range
of a hundred yards ; this speaks well for the Winchester
Express. I fired this shot when the bull was running
round the hill after I had missed him with the first ; it
was no doubt this shot that killed him, though it took
nearly ten hours to complete the work. I could discover
no other fatal injury. Another solid bullet went into his
stomach, one broke his fore leg, another a hind leg, both
at the knees. When at close quarters I fired into his
left shoulder ; but in the excitement of the moment I
must have used the cartridges with hollow bullets : I
made a careful examination of his shoulder, and found that
these light bullets had not penetrated beyond the mass
of hair and hide even — the base of one was sticking in
the skin !

One thing is certain, --iSO hollow bullets driven by 125
grs. of powder produce no more effect on the shoulder of
a wild yak at forty yards than on a solid rock. I gave
old Paljour a tip of four rupees for this successful hunt,
and Pdmber, the boy, one rupee for having first sighted
the bull. The old shikari thawed under the influence
of the silver, and he s^ave me the following; information
regarding the wild yak : — They are divided by Tibetans
into three classes: (1) the largest is named Taingan, a
hoary monster with grizzled face, shoulders, and flanks ;
(2) Tralsir, a huge beast with grizzled face only ; (3)
Tainah, a young bull, jet-black all over. The one I had
shot was evidently a " Traisir," to judge by his grand
drizzled head and face. If a tame bull with white about
him goes to a wild cow, the progeny has a white tail ; if a
wild bull gets to a tame cow, the produce is fierce and
stubborn, and the horns of the young bull have to be cut
off at the tips to prevent mischief. It would therefore

220 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

seem that tame and wild animals are apt to get mixed ;
but this can happen only in Tibet proper, where wild yaks
are so common. Paljour said that only in Tibet are
wild ones found with white tails.

In the evening I returned to the camp at Trak-karpo,
losing a good chance of a fine antelope through the freaks
of a kiang. These worthless animals have an entirely mis-
taken idea of their own importance. When they sight
the sportsman, they promptly assume that they themselves
are the animals stalked ; but, instead of going clean away
like sensible beasts, they rush about in the most idiotic
manner and within easy range of the disgusted hunter ;
their temperament must be very excitable and nervous, and
their intelligence of a very low order.

The cold in the Keipsang plain was getting worse daily ;
at night everything liquid was frozen, and there was great
difficulty in getting water till the sun came out, when a
regular transformation scene set in at once. I paid
a visit to Kiam camp to see about the preserving of the
dong's head and hide. Four tame yaks had full loads
carrying the hide, head, and meat, so we made an imposing
eutry. Yakiib was struck dumb with the magnitude of the
head and hide. Old Paljour had a bad half-hour in ex-
plaining to him, with his imperfect command of the
language common to both, the exciting details of the chase.
Yakiib was a keen sportsman. As his camp duties did not
allow him to accompany me, he manufactured a pellet-
bow out of a broken bamboo alpenstock, and went out
on regular hunts after the tailless rats, that abound
in great numbers in all grassy spots. There was no
lack of excitement in this novel sport, as it was really
difficult to stalk within killing distance of these small
creatures with such a weapon. He collected a small
heap of their pretty fawn-coloured velvet pelts. About

THE HUNT CONTINUED 221

five hundred of them put neatly together would make a
dainty rug.

The dong's head gave Yakub several days' congenial
work, and he set about it without delay. The first thing
we did was to weigh the head : it was exactly 100 lbs.
The horns were 34 inches in length. The nyan head I
shot in Gograng weighed 23 lbs. I found two large
flocks of sheep at Kitini ; one had just brought salt from
the Mangtza lake in Tibet, and the other was bound for
the same place. Their road lay through Kiamgo-Traggar
valley, where my future dong-shooting would be, so I
arranged with the shepherds that they were to keep a
day's march behind me as far as Lanak-la, and returned
to Trak-karpo in the evening.

Next morning we left the Keipsang by another Konka-la
(a slight rise only), and entered Kiamgo-Traggar at once.
A small white rock is in the centre of the opening, named
also " Trak-karpo " ; the waters of several valleys meet at
this white stone, and run united to the main stream. The
march from Keipsang into Kiamgo-Traggar was a most
trying one — a long series of stony slopes and valleys, one
after the other ; not a blade of grass, not a drop of water,
was visible anywhere. In one of these stony depressions
Paljour spied two birds with a young one ; we went after
them, and Paljour picked up the youngster, lying like a
stone on the ground. It was about the size of a common
grey partridge, and was exactly like that bird in colour,
but the legs were short and feathered like those of a
grouse. I carried it some distance in my hand after the
old birds, which kept moving off a few yards before me — the
hen pretending to be disabled, and fluttering along just as
I have seen pheasants in the Himalayas, when trying to
distract attention from their helpless broods. The old
birds were marked like the pintail grouse of the plains,

222 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

similarly shaped, but much longer in the body : they were
evidently specimens of Syrrhaptcs Tibetamis, the Tibetan
grouse. They are described by Bower in his book Across
Tibet (page 294). He tound these birds in this same
valley.

At 12.30 we reached the opening of the Liingiin side
valley, our intended camping-place, and were making
eagerly for the opposite side, where there was a stream,
when, looking up the valley, Paljour made out a dark
object about a mile off: the glasses showed it to be a
dong. Here was a fix ! I was dead tired with seven
hours' tramping, had had no breakfast yet, and now a
tremendous stalk (the wind was wrong, as usual) had to be
undertaken at once. We went back on our tracks a bit,
and, after a hurried snack, began the ascent of the hill.
We had to go to the very sky-line before we could cross
over to the proper side for a safe and close approach. The
ascent took us fully two hours, and when we got into
position, about a hundred yards from the bull, he did
exactly what the first had done — lay down, facing us
straight ! I did the same, glad of a little rest to pull
myself together, while Paljour kept watch. Half an hour
passed, when the shikari said, " He is up." I raised myself
and saw the bull going fast up the side valley, in which
he had been sleeping — no doubt he had got a puff of our
wind, and was alarmed. I ran as fast as I could, and had
a snap-shot at 150 yards with the Winchester as the
bull climbed the hill in front. The shot turned him, and
from his sudden change of course I made certain he was
hit : he turned quite suddenly, and came in a curve to our
right, and above us. I imagined that he could no longer
ascend on account of his wound, like the Keipsang bull.
As he made this curve, I had time to put in four more
shots with the double Express, but at very long ranges.

PALJOUR IN AN AWKWARD HOLE 223

One took effect, and broke his right hind leg below the
knee ; this crippled him, but he made a regular bolt round
the steep and stony hillside above us, with the intention,
evidently, of getting into the upper part of the valley.
We ran, too, in the same direction, but lower down the
slope, to cut him off. His progress, however, was slow, as
I could see from the dust — he was out of sight owing to
a curve in the hill. I slackened my pace, but Paljour,
not noticing this, went on and got above me ; he was thus
between the bull and myself. As the bull turned the
swell in the hillside, he suddenly came in sight of Paljour,
and, instantly changing his course, charged furiously at the
old man, straight down hill. Paljour retreated towards me,
best pace, shouting to me to fire ; but at first I could not
see the bull, and when he did come in sight the shikari
was directly in line with him. I shouted to him to get
out of the way, but he was too flustered to understand.
Fortunately, above me, and about ten yards off, a small
rock jutted out of the hillside, and Paljour screwed himself
under it, into the smallest space. The infuriated bull
stood above the rock, only a few feet from the man,
evidently at a loss. He could hear his enemy distinctly,
for Paljour was shouting continuously, at the top of his
voice, for me to come and hide under the rock beside him.
It was clear that both man and animal were unconscious
of each other's proximity: one was mad with rage, and
the other w^as off his head with funk. There was no
time, however, to admire the tableau, for the monster above
me was bent on mischief. I put a -500 Express bullet
into his chest, and down he came straight for me. I
backed a few yards to get out of his course, and fell into
a stony hole, cutting my legs very severely — the hand of
Providence again ! In the hole I was out of sight of the
furious animal, which thundered past, about three yards

224 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

off. I had just time to twist myself into a sitting position,
and deliver my second barrel into his shoulder as he rushed
by. That finished him. He fell twenty yards below me,
sprawling on his belly, with his legs spread out, thus
checking the otherwise inevitable roll down hill. His head
was raised, and he was bleeding copiously from the mouth.

The scene, though it lasted only a few moments, has left
an indelible impression on my memory. Our respective
positions in this transaction were, I should say, unique.
The blazing sun behind the bull, as he stood over Paljour,
setting off his grand proportions, Paljour jammed under
the rock, bawling at the pitch of his voice, and myself
quivering with excitement on the stony hillside ! It seems
a laughing matter now, but at the time we were all three
desperately in earnest. At any rate, Paljour thought the
situation critical, for when the bull rolled over he came down
to me, put his head on my feet, crying, " You have saved
me, you have saved me ! " He patted the rifle affection-
ately, exclaiming, " BahM achha larnHk, hahiU achha
hancluk ! " (a very good gun, a very good gun), and was
altogether hysterical for a time.

After we had recovered somewhat, we went down to the
dong, which was still alive, and I was debating in my
mind whether I would spend another cartridge on him to
put him out of pain, when Paljour shouted something at
him, abusive, I suppose, in Tibetan. The sound of the
human voice roused the savage brute's fury again; he
moved angrily, but it was his last effort. The poor beast
rolled over and went down the stony hillside, over and
over, for a hundred yards, bringing up on a level bit at
the bottom, on the flat of his back, dead. The camp came
up presently, and we pitched near the carcase.

Next morning he was cut up. He was much smaller
than No. 1, but was a compact, sturdy beast, of immense

THE I.VFURIATED BILL STOOD ABOVE THE ROCK."

THE "KHUNI" BULL 225

power. His horns were four inches shorter than those of
the Keipsang bull, the points worn away and chipped, but
much thicker at the base. When Paljour noticed the
condition of his horns, he said, " This is a khuni" meaning
that the animal was a murderer, and that he must have
killed a man. He related the story of a Tibetan, who
was attacked by a wild bull the year before, beyond the
Lanak-la. The man's stomach was torn open, and he was
killed on the spot. Dongs whose horns are worn and
battered are always vicious and dangerous ; they are
constantly fighting, and attack everything they encounter.
This bull had all the appearance of a morose old rogue ;
he probably was the identical brute of Paljour's story, as
I shot him within two days' march of the place where the
Tibetan was killed. The wild yak's face was greatly
grizzled, his teeth were worn down, and one was missing.
Paljour said his age could not be less than twenty years,
while the Keipsang bull could not have been more than
fifteen. As he lay, he gave me the impression of a well-
trained prize-fighter, while the figure of the first monster
I shot put me in mind of a large and portly gentleman, in
the prime of life, who took no care of his muscles. The
chest and shoulder shots were well placed, and made short
work of the huge beast ; as both were fired within ten
yards' range, the result was only natural. The bullets
were solid '5 00s, and had 135 grains of powder behind
them. The penetration was very great, and the efi'ect
inside tremendous. Both lungs were torn through from
right to left, and the chest shot had gone through the
body so far that we could not trace the bullet. Mystery
attached to the first shot I fired from the Winchester. It
had seemed to disable him — or was it pure cusseclness that
had caused him to change his course when he heard the
shot and come round the hill towards us ? The flesh
15

226 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

between the thighs was blue, and looked as if a bullet had
made a passage that way, but examination was such a
nauseating business that I did not carry my explorations
very far. One fact, however, was certain : there was no
bullet-hole in the hide of that portion of the body. Paljour
had his own theory about the entrance of the bullet from
behind, but I could not accept it, as there was no sign on
the part indicated.

The sheep, fifteen hundred, in charge of fourteen men,
came up during the day and camped close by. They
were anxious to go on, as they travel by night only, and
intended to cross the Lanak-la by sunrise next day. Five
hundred of these sheep belonged to the Maharajah of
Kashmir, or, let us say, to his officials. In this way he
had large flocks of sheep all over the country. The profits
in the salt trade on this number of sheep go to him : the
only advantage the owners get is the produce of the sheep,
but the number belonging to the Maharajah must never
diminish. If they die, or are lost across the border, it is
the people's loss, on the " heads I win, tails you lose "
principle. These men had wonderful stories of the
Champa robbers across the border, and seemed to be in
great fear of them. The Champa (nomadic) robbers
(called also Cliakpa by Bower) are probably the
Golok plundering tribes mentioned by other travellers.
They are mounted on trained horses, that gallop up and
down mountains at full speed. A rest is fixed between
the ears of the horse, from which the horseman takes aim
with his long gun. They have their tents fifteen days'
march in the interior, and mounted parties infest the
roads. Sometimes, when their supplies run short, they
undergo great privations. There is no redress from their
plundering, because there is no appeal nearer than Lahsa,
three months' journey distant; besides, these sheepmen say,

MORE WILD YAK 227

the Champas pay a tax to Lahsa for the privilege of
plundering. This party with their sheep were going to
Mangtza-tso (lake) for salt, ten days' march beyond the
border ; it is the lake that Carey passed on his journey
to Polu. The year before a party of Eupshii men, them-
selves nomads, were plundered as they were returning
from the lake by these robbers. The men who were now
going up came from Pobrang. They said they had no
arms, and offered no resistance to the Champas, who were
terrible fellows. The shepherds took all the meat of the
dead dong and buried it high up the hillside under large
rocks. They said they would return in about a month,
when they would take the flesh home !

I noted the temperature inside the tent during my stay
in the Laliing valley. At 9 r.M. the thermometer showed
46° ; at 6 a.m. 24° — a difference of 22° between evening
and morning. At 4 p.m. it was 66°, or an extreme
variation of 42° in the twenty-four hours. These figures
speak to the climate of these parts in the middle of August.

Next morning we went up Kiamgo-Traggar in the
direction of I>anak-la, the travelling-path of Pocfhagus
(jmnniens when he is seeking pastures new. We reached
the opening of the Kaliing valley at nine o'clock, and at
the same time Paljour discovered the tracks of a large
donrf rjoino; in the same direction that we were. We
followed them for two hours, first down into the plain,
where there was water, then through grassy plots and over
stony plains. There were two, a large bull and a smaller
one. I gave up the search when the things came up ; but
Paljour followed the beasts up a small valley, and then
returned, saying the dong had gone up very high. We
proceeded farther to find a good place for camp, and when
turning a spur, Pamber, the boy, pointed out two black
spots near the sky-line, which the glasses soon resolved

2 28 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

into the bulls. The large flock of sheep that passed this
way last night must have disturbed them, and they had
climbed high ; but for this circumstance, I am sure we
should have found them on the level in one of the grassy
plots. We backed round the corner at once and made
camp under the hill, well concealed from the dongs above,
and at two o'clock began the stalk, passing up the Kahing
valley until we got past the point where our game was.
We had to go this distance to get the right side of the
wind, which was blowing up the valley. It took us an
hour's steady climbing to get near the top of the ridge,
and, as we approached the point we were making for, I
thought to myself that if the bulls appeared on the crest
above we should be fairly caught, and that the rifles
ou"ht to be uncovered and loaded ; but such is the
perversity of human nature that I only thought, and put
off action until the very thing that was running in my
mind happened. When we were eighty yards from the
ridge, an immense black form rose slowly above the sharply-
defined sky-line and came slowly along the crest, looming
twice its actual size against the deep blue above ! We
flattened ourselves among the stones in an instant, I
tearing madly at the cover of the "500 Express, wliile
Paljour presented two cartridges with a trembling hand.
The bull, however, did not see us, and the wind for once
was right. The beast seemed half asleep and very lazy ; he
moved along very slowly, and gave me a splendid chance.
The first bullet told loudly, and was answered by a flourish
of the bushy tail, but the second shot missed him. I just
had time to reload when the other bull came along, but
only the top of his back showed above the crest, and the
bullet passed over him harmlessly. We rushed over the
ridge, and followed the tracks till we had the two animals
again in sight in a small valley below, and about a mile

TAKEN BY SURPRISE 229

away. The big bull, standing with his head down, seemed
hard hit, and the smaller stood close to him in an attitude
of inquiring sympathy. We stalked down and found they
had gone on, but very slowly, so followed the tracks round
a couple of side valleys, and at last came on them standing
quietly in a narrow depression ; it seemed as if they were
trying to hide in the best way they could in this fold of
the barren hillside, for the smaller one turned his head and
looked in our direction in the sly fashion of a wild animal
trying to escape notice. The big bull was twenty yards
ahead of the youngster, who was the most alert, and was
evidently looking after the safety of his older companion. I
fired at the wounded animal with the Winchester and missed ;
and missed twice again as they bolted ! The distance
was over 150 yards, and I had not a clear view. I now
put up the second sight, and my fourth shot, at certainly
not less than 300 yards, rolled over the big bull like a
rabbit; the fifth shot did exactly the same to the other.
Here was luck ' Old Paljour was surprised out of his
stolidity ; lie raised a shout, waved his greasy headgear,
and salaamed me several times. I was certainly elated
myself at the sight of the two bulls kicking up the dust
on the hillside below me. We had not gone fifty yards
towards them when the smaller one got up and limped
along the level track with his leg hanging useless from his
shoulder ; he fell twice, and I thought he could not go far,
so did not fire again, l)ut he mended his pace by degrees,
and ran right round the valley and over the dividing ridge,
before I realised that he was getting out of my hands. That
was the last I saw of him. The back of the old bull was
broken, and he never moved from the place where he fell.
I ended his pain with another bullet. ]\Iy first shot,
when he came over the ridge, hit him in the fleshy part of
the right hind leg. I aimed, or thought I aimed, at his

230 DONG (WILD YAK) SHOOTING

shoulder when he loomed against the sky-line as big as
a haystack, but the fluster I was in at the moment may
be imagined — this huge target was only eighty yards off,
and I was within six inches of missing it altogether.

I fired my last shot at wild yak on the 16th August.
I had bagged three — and lost one through my own
foolishness. I began the hunt on the 10 th. I think this
is a record that has not been touched yet — three wild
bulls in six days. I might have continued for another
fortnight and collected a good supply of these enormous
heads ; but for what end ? The hunting and stalking are
the most exciting in the world ; the climate, the ground,
and its surroundings the most trying. The chase of the
wild dong, therefore, must be classed amongst the severest
tests of a sportsman's quality ; but a bag of three good
bulls quite satisfied me. I have a horror of big bags —
an unconquerable disgust at my own butcherliness comes
over me when I stand over a noble animal that has been
slain by my own hand : this feeling increases with every
trophy added to my collection, till it forces me to drop the
pursuit of that particular game and follow something
else. In the present instance remorse got the better
of me after the third bull, and I left the travelling trail of
the wild yaks to pick up a couple of antelope heads in
another part of the valley. The escape of the wounded
bull haunted me and made me unhappy for several days,
though I spent some precious time trying to retrieve him ;
he crossed the range of mountains to the north, and must
have made his way to the Great Plain beyond, and died
in lingering misery. May I be forgiven !

The head of the second bull (the murderer) weighed
only 84 lbs., and the horns were 29 inches in length. The
third bull's head weighed 94 lbs., and the horns were 30
inches long.

COST OF EXPEDITION 231

Before proceeding to other scenes, a few details of the
cost of my expedition will be useful. The yaks, ponies,
and coolies had been with me for one month and six days,
reckoning from the time they were hired to my return to
Pobrang, where they were discharged. For that period the
expenses were as follows : —

Hire of eight yaks .... Ks.
Hire of two ponies ....
Hire of goats .....
Wages to Paljour, 8 annas a day (I

kept him on as far as Tanks(5)
Wages of Pamber and another man
Cost of four sheep ....
Bakshish ......

76

12

0

19

3

0

3

6

0

20

0

0

8

0

0

4

0

0

5

0

0

Total, Ps. 136 5 0

Or three rupees twelve annas per diem. These figures
prove that this kind of sport is not really expensive when
managed with ordinary prudence. Of course the carelessly
rich or inexperienced sportsman will probably have to
pay double. He should, however, bear in mind that the
extra money he dispenses will not find its way to the people
who have actually done his hard work, but into the
bottomless pockets of the rascally Kashmiri shikari, or of
the confidential English-speaking servant who runs the
whole show, including his master. The simple remedy is
to pay each individual with your own hand.

CHAPTER XV

STAG AND BEAE SHOOTING IN KARIIMIR

To Leh, capital of Ladakli — Route from Leli to Kashmir — Leave it at
Sliarg61 — March to Suru — Story of General Zorawar Singh and his
death — From Son'i to Siiknis — A human skeleton — Details' of fatal
accident to Dr. Genge and his party — The Suknis bear and his harem —
Master of the village crops — Cannot find him — Stag-shooting in the
Upper Wardwan — Hanking (driving) is unsuccessful — A stag calls— Go
for him — Just in time — Difficulty in "hahiling" — A hysterical coolie —
A fine trophy — March for the valley — My first bear — Bad weather
again — A forty-eight hours' snowstorm- — Bear-shooting is ruined — A
sociable snipe — Cross over into the valley — Five days' hard work —
Result, a stag and a bear — Shooting tour comes to an end — Joined by
Yakub and Channirti — The latter's adventures — Yakub lionises at
home — Is feted by nawabs — Takes to drink — And dies.

My next objective was Leh. I left Pobrang on the 28 th
of August, and reached the capital of Ladakh on the 2nd
of September, crossing Chang-la, 18,000 feet, an ascent of
three and a half hours, on the way. The distance is 74
miles as I made it, 77 miles according to the official list
of routes.

Tankse is the largest village on the road, and all supplies
for the trip to Chang-chen-mo are always collected here
and from the neighbouring villages. The valley for several
miles, above and below, is most fertile, and can supply
sufficient quantities of necessaries for a small party going
on a three months' excursion. If the sportsman makes
his start from Leh, he should send his camp on ahead, and

232

MARCH TO SORU 233

make the foot of the pass himself in one day. The second
day will take him easily into Tanksc, and the third to
Pobrang,

The road from Leh to Kashmir is a well-known line of
travel, and I take up my story at Shargul,. where I again
left the beaten track ; this place is the sixth march from
Leh. Yiikiib went on with the ponies and things by the
straight road to Srinagar, while I, with eight coolie-loads,
struck off to the left for Sorii at the head of the Wardwan
valley, where I intended to have some stag and bear
shooting before concluding my travels. My first march
was to the foot of a pass with no particular name — a
distance of about fifteen miles- — which took us ten hours
to get over ; the coolies carrying my loads were very slow,
and gave much trouble at each village we passed. Beyond
Shargul the traveller is in Baltistan, and the population
is chiefly Musalmdn. I saw only a few Bhots (Tibetans),
Lamas, and gonpas (monasteries) during the march. The
next day's march was a very stiff one indeed. I changed
the coolies for four baggage animals, and got along better.
We passed over the crest of the range between two peaks
marked on the map 18,026 feet and 18,653 feet; the
pass itself cannot be less than 17,000 feet — a very high
one for these parts. From this point I had a grand view
of snowy peaks to the north and north-east, beyond Nabra
and its big glaciers, but no snow was visible on the rocky,
broken mountains between me and the distant peaks.
This was the first really extensive view I had had of
Ladakh. The next descent was very long and trying
indeed — zig-zagging and doing the serpentine along a very
steep hillside all the way to the bottom of the valley —
the Phulung. We came to the first village, Labbaks, at
half-past two ; but my camping-place was Sanku, so we
trudged on in the heat. I was thirteen hours on the

234 STAG AND BEAR SHOOTING IN KASHMIR

road, and did only twenty miles ; a most trying day's
march.

Khali'k, the servant I had brought from Leh, an Arghiin
or half-caste, beguiled the tedium of the journey by relating
the story of Zorawar Singh, the famous general of Mahari'ijah
Gulab Singh of Kashmir. He was the conqueror of Ladakh,
and subsequently lost his life in Tibet during a great
battle, while he was on his march to Lahsa itself. The
half-caste's story was shortly this : The name of the
place where the general was killed was Parang ; he was
on horseback during the battle, and was hit by a bullet in
the thigh ; he dismounted and sat on the ground, where
he was shot again in the chest, and died as he sat. The
Bhots (Tibetans) were so afraid even of the dead hero that
they would not approach his body for two days. Then
they cut off his head and sent it to Lahsa, and ate the
rest of the body, that they might assimilate the courage
of the gallant old Sikh ! The head is still preserved in
the biggest monastery of the city, and is worshipped with
great ceremony as the head of a famous conqueror.
The Bhots won the battle hjjddu (magic); it snowed very
hard all the time, and the bullets would not come out of
the Sikhs' guns.

To Suri'i was the next march, seventeen miles up the
left bank of that river ; the valley is very fertile, and the
road, for the greater part, good. I remained here for a
day, collected ten days' supplies, and started for my next
point, the village of Si'iknis at the head of the "VVardwan
valley ; it was a rough journey, and took four days' hard
marching. The first stage was about twelve miles up the
Chilliing stream. Several ancient moraines and landslips
had to be crossed, and the stream was considerable even
at this season. Marmots were numerous ; they are bigger
than the Tibetan variety, are of dark chestnut colour, and

A HUMAN SKELETON 235

have black muzzles. We negotiated the pass next day,
after a very difficult ascent over glaciers, moraines, etc.,
which took us more than four hours, at a rate of about a
mile an hour. The descent on the other side was very
steep and long. I had breakfast on top of a huge rock,
under which, close to the path, lay the bleached skeleton
of a man. It was that of a Kashmiri who died of
exhaustion and cold many years ago while trying to cross ;
his body was placed in a hollow under the rock, and
covered with large slabs. The skeleton was, however,
plainly visible from the path ; it was quite perfect, and had
never been disturbed.

After two more descents, reached Kon-nag at 4 p.m. ;
the distance of the whole march was about twelve miles.
The pass, named " Lanwi " in the map, is at the head of
the Kaintal valley, in which Dr. Genge and his camp were
buried under an avalanche of fresh snow a few years ago.
I missed seeing the place where the accident occurred, as
the pass by that route was closed, but heard the details of
it from an old Kashmiri shikari at Sorii.

Dr. Genge was shooting ibex in the Kaintal valley, and
had bagged one and wounded another. His camp was
under a precipice in a perfectly safe place, according to
the experience of the men with him ; but during the night
a dreadful snowstorm came on, and several feet of snow
accumulated on the mountain slopes above. An enormous
mass was loosened, by its own weight, no doubt, and
rushed over the precipice in an avalanche. The servants'
tents were quite close under the rocks, the doctor's a
little farther out. His body was found subsequently some
distance off, with his bed, etc., but the tent remained
where it was, crushed and broken. The body was found
only half covered with snow. It is singular that the body
and furniture were found at a distance from the tent. The

236 STAG AND BEAR SHOOTING IN KASHMIR

occupants of the servants' tent were found dead in the
position in which they were sleeping. Two coolies who
had been sent for supplies to Sorii tried to return with
them, but the storm drove them down again. They
crossed five days after, and, finding no truce of the camp,
inferred that the sahib had gone to Siiknis, but, finding
he was not there, came back with twenty men and
discovered the camp buried under the snow. Many years
before this another Englishman and his party were buried
under an avalanche in the Miingil nala, Wardwan valley, as
they were returning in the evening from hunting ibex.
Considering the number of men who, year after year,
travel about in the Himalayas, it is wonderful that so few
fatal accidents have been recorded.

I was now on the watershed of the Chimib, and every-
thing was changed. The hillsides were carpeted with
grass, and the first clump of birch-trees graced the farther
bank just in front of my tent-door. The next camp was
Pajahoi, opposite the opening of the Wishni-waj valley.
I made my first attempt after bears here, but was
unsuccessful. Shepherds and sheep were about, and I
heard of a sahib and mem-sahib in a ualii lower down ;
so not only liad the stag season opened, but the sportsman
(and his wife) were up and after them. At this camp the
tent was soaking wet with dew in the morning : I never
saw dew in Ladakh. I reached Siiknis on the 22nd of
September, and from this point began my hunt after stag
and bear.

Oh for the good times of twenty years ago, when stags
and bears in the Kashmir valleys were less rare than they
are now, and the sportsman had not to work so hard for a
couple of good heads and half a dozen brown bear skins 1
He then simply " raced " for his valley, and, if his head
shikari was a good intriguer, got in first. He pitched his

SUKNIS BEAR AND HIS HAREM 237

camp low down, where it remained fixed, while he, with a
very small following, roughed it higher up on the grassy
slopes, and shot his game at his leisure. When he wanted
a rest, he came down to his main camp for a couple of
days. Now the best shooting ground is strictly preserved,
aud where access is allowed, " shootists " (not sportsmen)
simply jostle one another, running out long distances on
receipt of information, and then running back after the
quarry has been shot or missed.

I had to do some hard tramping and climbing before I
bagged two stags with very ordinary heads, aud two brown
bears, which in these days may be considered a good
reward for three weeks of very severe and continuous
work.

As soon as I reached Siiknis, I heard of three bears,
and crossed the stream to the left bank for them, but I
never had the luck to come across the animals, though
traces were frequent on the paths and hillsides. There
was one particular old male whom the villagers had known
for years, and they were most anxious that he should be
wiped out, for his ravages among their crops were very
serious ; and since he had imported a couple of females to
keep him company, their presence had become intolerable.
The old Bruin was completely master of the situation after
sunset. Shouting, tom-tomming, torches and fires had no
terrors for him ; he simply went where he liked, wandered
about all night, and in the grey dawn retired up the valley
with his harem, to repose quietly during the heat of the
day. I was shown the path used by these animals night
after night ; the soft earth was worn into oblong holes by
the bears' feet, and the bushes alongside had torn hair
from their fat sides. The men with me worked hard, but
they could not hit off the hiding-place of the big bear.
These animals probably travelled several miles morning

238 STAG AND BEAR SHOOTING IN KASHMIR

and evening, and perhaps lived in another valley. I was
unable to waste many days over them, as the stag-forest
was yet some distance down, and I was anxious to begin
business there.

I took my camp down to the village of Basmin, seven

miles below Siiknis, and thence took twenty-five coolies for

a beat on the slopes overlooking the right bank of the

Wardwan river. We first went down a couple of miles,

and then worked up a wooded spur for three hours, and

an awful grind it was. Just as I got placed, and the men

were moving to their several points, a stag called in the

forest opposite, about four hundred yards away — the first

call I had heard that season (date, 25th September). I

had taken a few mouthfuls of breakfast, but stopped in a

hurry as the welcome sound reached my ear, and went

up hill to get above the stag. He called about four times.

We had not been gone long when there was a tremendous

shout from the coolies, a short distance below the animal :

they had come upon some hinds ! We returned crestfallen

to our former position — but I did not resume my breakfast.

Nothing came of this beat, nor of the next one, so I gave

up in disgust, and was coming down hill when a coolie

started a stag that was lying at the foot of a pine-tree.

This is nearly always the result of driving in Kashmir

when a single sportsman tries to circumvent these deer.

Against my better judgment, I was induced to try this one

by the Kashmiri shikari I had hired from the village ; he

knew where the stags were, and went straight to the place

with this body of men to turn them out before the muzzle

of my rifie. He wished to save me trouble, he said ! He

had, however, increased my troubles by, at anyrate, two

days' extra toil up and down the steep hillsides to find he

disturbed the game by still-hunting. I gave up the

beating business on the spot, and vowed never to have

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A KASHMIRI rOACHER 239

auythirig more to do with that kind of sport again. There
were evidently several stags in the forest — signs and forms
were numerous. There was trouble in the camp next day
about supplies, and I had to remain there making arrange-
ments till three in the afternoon. I was eventually
obliged to write to the poHce officer at Maryo, two days'
march down the valley, to send me help. The rascal
(supplies) difficulty is a frequently recurring one in this
country ; villagers are not willing to sell goods when their
lono- winter, a season of semi-starvation, is close at hand.
I started in the evening with two coolies and a local man,
with food and bedding, for a good hunt after stags. On
the way we met a man who said four shots had been fired
on the hillside I was making for ; the local man with me
said it must be the Siddik of Gurdraman, a village above
Nowbiig, who had a gun (an old rifle) ; he had been
shooting in Mungil. I met him afterwards near Siiknis,
coming my way ; but I could hardly believe the story of
the four shots, so went on and camped at dusk high up in a
dry watercourse, where we were belated, as we had spent
a long time getting over a very difficult place just below.
Water was very scarce, but we eventually discovered a
little in a rocky hole. We started at six a.m. next day, and,
after a short pull up hill, saw a stag crossing an open glade
high above us ; he soon got our wind and bounded off
prettily into the nearest birch clump. The rising sun
caught his flank, and the inside of his left thigh flashed
the rays back to us almost with the brilliancy of a mirror.
We saw nothing more that morning, and made camp at
the foot of a fine old pine-tree in the heart of the stag
ground. This was really a comfortable, not to say
luxurious, abode compared with the narrow watercourse
where we had passed the night. Firewood was abundant,
the shade was very welcome, and the invigorating

240 STAG AND BEAR SHOOTING IN KASHMIR

pine-scented air filled my lungs. lu the evening we
went out and watched the open hillside for a stag.
For two hours we saw and heard nothing ; the sun
went down behind the range, the evening breath of the
forest grew colder and colder, and my thoughts turned
longingly towards the cheerful log-fire and the meal
awaiting me. My appetite grew keener, and at last
persuaded me to leave just at the very time a stag was
likely to appear. I lay down, at length, before the fire,
and was getting comfortably warm, when a stag roared in
the very direction whence we had just come.

We were not two hundred yards from the open glade,
and we covered that distance in record time, though the
shadows were dark and the ground was by no means level.
The local man led the way and spied the stag, from the
edge of the forest, crossing the open towards a spring
farther down. I tried hard to get a view, but could not
see the beast. Darkness was fast coming on, and the
surrounding forest made darker the clearing which the
stag was crossing. He must have winded or seen us, for
he went back at once the way he came, but slowly, and
called again. We raced round the hillside, and at last
I caught sight of him going at a leisurely pace towards
the opposite wooded slope. I took steady aim with the
Winchester, and heard the shot tell. He disappeared in the
bottom of the depression, and we waited to see if he would
appear on the opposite slope ; there was no sign of him,
and I made sure he was down. So we went on cautiously,
and discovered him lying on the level, facing us. It was
now almost dark. If he rose and went only a few yards
into the forest, we were certain to lose him ; so I fired
again and missed. The stag sprang up and made for the
forest, but I had just time to give him another shot, which
dropped him as he entered the birch bushes — a most lucky

A HYSTERICAL COOLIE 241

shot. The two men with me rushed down for the halal,
but to their horror they could not find tlie animal in the
darkness, and their hopes of lawful meat for supper began
to fade. But they did find him at last, guided by his
dying struggles. Then they shouted that two men could
not perform the ceremony, by reason of the animal's
struffgles and because it was so dark. One of the coolies
from the camp, who had brought up the double
Express on hearing my first shot, was still with me, and
when the shikaris shouted that they could not cut the
beast's throat between them, the absurdity of it quite upset
that coolie; he roared with laughter, jumped about on one
leg and then on the other, bit his hand and arm to keep
himself from laughing, and behaved so comically altogether
that he set me off too. The idea that two strong men
should be unable to halal a dying stag was so funny to
this simple villager that it nearly sent him into hysterics.
When he was sufficiently recovered, he went to help, and I
returned to the fire, much elated with a stroke of luck
which I certainly did not deserve, after deserting the hill-
side at the very time that brings the chance of a shot. I
had a rough camp dinner, drank to my luck in a tin
pot of hot Swiss milk, in default of anything stronger, and
turned in. Next morning I took the measurements of my
trophy. Length of horns, 37 and 35^ inches; girth above
brow antler, 7 inches; divergency at tips, 38 J inches;
tines, 10.

This is very near the size that Ward says (page Go)
" should be considered a prize worth working for." The
divergency seems small, compared with that of the largest
Ward had seen — fifty and fifty-six inches. The body of
the stag was short, sturdy, and compact, quite different
from the shape of the huge animals that are shot in the
valleys on the Kashmir side. The more rigorous climate
16

242 STAG AND BEAR SHOOTING IN KASHMIR

of the Wardwan valley, and the harder life, I suspect,
tend to give this compactness of body, which is more
suitable to their surroundings. The first shot that hit
was a solid Winchester bullet of soft lead weighing 330
grs : it struck him behind the right kidney, which it
severed, went through the stomach, and was found under
the skin on the left side, having passed through the small
ribs ; this was good penetration. The second shot, fired at
him on the ground facing me, carried away one of the
brow antlers — a great misfortune ; the third, when he was
among the birch bushes, broke his back.

I remained in this valley four days longer, and
worked hard for another trophy, but was not successful.
Stags were by no means numerous, though I heard a call
now and then, and came on tracks frequently ; also their
wallows where they had rolled in the mud and torn up
the ground round about. Their travels in search of hinds
had begun ; they moved about so much that meeting them
became a mere chance. I gave up the chase after those four
days and went back to Siiknis.

I left that village next day to cross over into Kashmir.
I had ten coolies and a local shikari, who promised me bear
on the road, and perhaps a stag on the other side. The
path led up straight from the village, and the ascent to the
top of the pass was long, and sometimes steep ; the pass
itself is a depression leading into the Kassal valley, an
extensive one with a considerable stream running down to
the village of Basmin. "We camped in a grassy plain,
below a large rock, across the stream. I got my first bear
on this march. Signs were abundant and fresh after the
ascent began, the animals having dug up the pathway in
several places in search of roots. All these upper valleys
must be good for brown bear, but for a long time Bruin
in person did not appear. At eleven o'clock I was break-

MY FIRST BEAR 243

fasting on the hillside, when Kamal Shikari got the first
view of him digging on the hillside to the rights about a
mile off. Before we could get near him, he had gone down
over to the other slope and was out of sight, and the wind
changed. But the bear luckily was at the bottom of the
valley, and so the wind for once was in our favour. We
found that the bear was having a bath in the stream, and he
seemed to enjoy it extremely ; the sun was very hot, and I
envied him. After several rolls in the water, he came out
and wiped himself vigorously on the grass, especially under
the neck, which showed the white collar distinctly. Then
he shook himself and frisked about, and again betook him-
self to the more serious business of searching for grubs,
gradually ascending the opposite slope. We worked
cautiously down and then up, eventually catching him up ;
but he was constantly moving, and, though I had him
covered several times, I could not get a good chance. At
last he stopped for a moment, broadside on, a little above
me and about fifty yards off, when I gave him a solid
bullet from the Winchester, on receipt of which he bolted
down the hill and round towards my right. I lost sight
of him at once, on account of the slope and the huge rocks
about ; so ran to get a view. Unfortunately, a huge rock
prevented my seeing the bear, and the bear from seeing
us. He came full tilt in our direction till he passed the
rock on my right, certainly not five yards off ; then he
stopped suddenly, gave a loud grunt, and stood up on his
hind legs. We were very much taken aback at this
sudden apparition ; and Kamal, the shikari, standing next
to me, improved the situation by uttering a loud cry,
throwing up his hands, and falling on his back, just like a
woman. The " whoof ! " of the bear had knocked him over,
but the animal had no idea of attacking. Before I
could fire, he had turned round and was off like the wind

244 STAG AND BEAR SHOOTING IN KASHMIR

up the slope. I had to run out and get clear of the rock
before I could fire, by which time the bear was nearly
fifty yards away, but another bullet cut short his career,,
and he subsided on the spot. Kamal regained his legs
and his senses as the rifle cracked the second time.
When he saw the result of the shot, he ran up to the dead
animal and fired volleys of abuse at him : the Kashmiri
shikari all over. I daresay he was not afraid, but the
suddenness of the rencontre quite upset him. He said
his foot slipped ! Shortly after, he pretended to become
seriously ill while crossing the pass — the Kashmiri again.
The Kashmiri is the oddest mixture of childishness,
cunning, bluster, and swagger ; they are also perfect at
skulking and shamming. The best plan is to ignore their
groans and pantomime of suffering ; if they complain, offer
them their wages and tell them to go home.

I was unfortunate in the weather again at this place ;
we were literally snowed up for two days and could not
move. After forty-eight hours' continuous snow it was
twelve inches deep about the tent. The coolies had
finished their stock of food, and, fearful of being snowed up,
clamoured for a start. So I was obliged to move down
towards Kashmir. It was a great disappointment, for
signs of bear were numerous, and I made certain of
making a good bag after the weather cleared. During all
this snowy time a single snipe had been lying up by the
stream close to my tent ; I heard his plaintive " scape,,
scape," often, day and night, as if he too were protesting
against the ghastly weather. I put him as I started, and
he fiew off in the direction we were taking, evidently
having made up his mind to clear out, as I had done.
Bear tracks were fresh in the snow, all in the direction
we were going, — even they had a poor opinion of the
weather ! We gradually ascended to the foot of another

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FIVE DAYS' HARD WORK 245

pass : the way was rocky, but not steep. On the other
side was a steep descent of a mile or so to the Lang-nai
— a long and narrow valley. There was very little snow
on this side. We camped at the huts of some Gujars.
The weather was bad again that night, and in the
morning the snow fell very heavily : it was thick on the
pines and birches in the hanging forest across the gorge —
a beautiful winter scene, seen dimly through the falling
flakes. All day it snowed, and all day I snuggled under
the blankets: the coolies, too, in the huts were fairly
comfortable. Next morning it had cleared up, so we made
a start ; but the little tent had to be left behind, as it was
frozen and too stiff to pack. By two o'clock I reached
Lidu, where I found Yakub and the large tent, from
Srinagar. I found that the sporting colonel, who was
before me in Chang-chen-mo, had forestalled me here also ;
he left the village five days before my arrival. He got a
stag here, but, I was told, his shikaris shot the animal !

I stayed at home for two days, had a good rest, and
then went up again into a valley next the Lang-nai, by
which I had come down, to make a final try for bear and
stag. After five days' hard work I got one of each, and
was quite satisfied.

I arrived at Srinagar on the 20 th of October, and remained
there a week, collecting and packing up my trophies, then
made a start for the plains by tonga dak — Yakub following
with Chamurti and the traps. The pony had fared well
during this long and rough journey, though he was on
short commons so often, and had had many adventures in
his own line : the most serious was his fall from an unsafe
bridge on the way from Ladakh. The man who was
leading him knew the frail nature of the bridge, but he
also knew that the water was very cold, so he chanced
the bridge, and Chamiirti fell over, but the man got across

246 STAG AND BEAR SHOOTING IN KASHMIR

dryshod — his bones somehow must have ached for some
days after ! The pony was not in the least hurt, though
the drop could not have been less than twenty feet, and
he turned completely over, legs up, and fell on his back.
He was up in an instant, came out of the water, shook
himself like a dog, and promptly turned to on the grass I
The saddle was seriously damaged, but was still serviceable.
I think it was the saddle that saved Chamurti a broken
back. Yakiib wound up the tour in style. When he
reached his native town, his friends, including several
nondescript nawabs (nobles), gave a banquet in his honour.
Of course he was well plied with liquor, and the narrative
of his adventures in the far-off land from which he had
just returned must have inflamed his naturally quarrelsome
disposition. At anyrate there was a row before the feast
was finished, and little Ydkiib distinguished himself by
clearing the banquet-hall of hosts and friends alike. He
always carried a light Gurkha kukri (knife) in his belt — •
he used to say he was so small that he wanted something
to protect himself with. On this festive occasion that kukri
came to the fore, and the guests disappeared like the smoke
from their own hukkas. Then Yakiib, mad with fury or
drink, got into the street, was disarmed by the police and
bestowed in the lock-up — whence I had to bail him out
at midnight. I had subsequently to part with him, on
account of weakness for liquor. He then tried his fortune
in the Central Provinces, came back, got among his nawab
set again, and in six mouths drank himself to death. I
am afraid the distinguished company he kept was his ruin.
At anyrate they deprived me of a servant whose like I
shall never see again.

PART III

BEHIND THE HIMALAYAS— A PEEP
INTO TIBET

CHAPTER XVI

THE BASPA VALLEY

A three months' tour— Description of the valley— The river— Villages-
People— Climate— Theog—Mattiana—Sarahan— Meet my friend— Rajah
of Basahir— He has tiffin— Is a keen sportsman— Well educated in
English— Kilba— Headquarters of Forest officer— Large statf of wood-
cutters—How they are fed— Lay in my supplies— How I managed my
transport— Enter the Baspa valley— Villages on the road— The course of
the river— A transformation scene— Sangla village— The level valley—
An ancient lake— The passes— Sheep— Sheep-stages— Difference between
Til)etan and Himalayan sheep— The upper valley and river— Bad road
—Miserable huts— Wild women— More information regarding passes,
roads, etc. — Chitkul.

One summer I obtained three months' leave, and deter-
mined to devote it to a shooting trip in the upper valley
of the Baspa river. In Ward's Sportsman's Guide to
Kashmir a sketch is given of this trip, and the sport
likely to be had in that part of the Himalayas ; and this
induced me to go in that direction. As I eventually
crossed from the valley into a corner of Tibet never before
visited by Europeans, some account of my journey may be
of interest, thougli I cannot say that my expedition was
successful as regards sport.

247

248 THE BASPA VALLEY

The Baspa and its long valley are not generally known,
being quite off the beaten track, and rarely visited except
by a stray sportsman or a forest officer on duty. The
Baspa stream runs into the Sutlej about fifteen miles above
the Wangtii bridge on the latter and a few miles below
the large village of Chini. A glance at the map of Basahir
will show that an enormous snowy spur, or rather range,
springs from the main buttress of the Tibetan highlands,
and runs down almost straight to the Sutlej below the
above-named bridge. The main range, or Tibetan buttress,
extends in a northerly direction as far as the frontier village
of Shipki, where it is pierced by the Sutlej. The great
angle formed by these snowy mountains is subtended by
that river from Shipki to the Wangtii bridge — the Baspa
valley forming the south-westerly portion of this enormous
triangle. Its length from the source of the stream to its
junction with the Sutlej is not less than fifty miles, and
its breadth — that is to say, the level portion of tlie valley
through which the river runs — nowhere exceeds two miles,
while in many places it is less than one. Villages are
few ; the population is scanty. Twenty miles above
Sangla the principal village is Chitkiil, the highest
inhabited point in the valley.

Owing to its position between two lofty ranges of per-
petual snow, the climate of the valley is severe for at least
nine months of the year. The inhabitants are a mean and
mongrel lot, for whom existence must have very few joys,
and whose life, to an outsider at least, appears not worth
living. On their southern border their neighbours are the
high-spirited and high-handed Garh walls, and on the north-
eastern they have the exclusive Tibetans. The Baspa
people carry on the trade between these two peoples, and
are bullied by each in return. The Garhwalis supply the
rice and other commodities which the Baspa men take to

MEET MY FRIEND 249

Tibet and exchange for the wool and salt of that country.
They have also, it seems, to propitiate the Paijah of
Garhwal by annual offerings, in addition to the dues
paid to their legitimate ruler, the Rajah of Basahir.
Moreover, it often happens, in the upper -portions of the
valley, that the one annual crop yielded by the soil is
destroyed by an early winter ; when the miserable people
are frequently left dependent on the doubtful profits of
their trading and the produce of their flocks of sheep.
The struggle for existence is extremely hard, as the
wretched appearance of the people fully attests.

I had sent my travelling kit on ahead some days before.
So, finding everything ready for a start, I walked out
of Simla before sunrise on the 2nd of May. I made
two marches, and slept at Theog. Next day I reached
Mattiana, having met on the way two Bhotias (Tibetans)
returning to their village near Chini. One of them had
been to Gartokh, in Tibet, three months ago. He told
me it was a seven days' journey from Shipki, and that he
had shot two wild yak on the way, and had seen many
Ovis ammon. According to his statement, a couple of
Europeans could travel anywhere beyond Shipki, without
hindrance ; he was quite positive on this point, and
volunteered to take me. A large party, he said, would
not be allowed. This was curious, as the experience of
every European who has attempted to cross into Tibet
has been just the reverse. I got this information out of
the Bhotia only after much questioning, as his intelligence
was limited. At Sarahan my friend M. of the Forest
Department came in — a most pleasant surprise, for, though
I was making for his headquarters on the Sutlej, I had no
hope of meeting him for some days. His Highness
Shamsher Singh, Eajah of Basahir, whose summer residence
is here, paid my friend a visit during the day, and was

250 THE BASPA VALLEY

very friendly and pleasant. He spoke English well, and
seemed fairly educated and intelligent, but was rather
deaf. He was a small old man, and rumour said he drank
deeply. On the present occasion, however, he declined
whisky, saying this was not the time of the year for it ;
soda-water, pure, was the proper drink now. But there
was a twinkle in his eye as he defined the seasons for drink.
He stayed to lunch, and put away the chicken cutlets with
evident relish, though he ate with his hands, sending after
for the cMlamchi (brass wash-hand bowl) when he had
finished, and having a thorough wash-up at the table. The
whole performance was indeed quite a revelation in this
land of caste prejudices. The Eajah is a keen sportsman,
and takes great interest in guns and weapons of all kinds.
I obtained his signature to the two^«?'w;fm«s (permits) I had
procured at Eampur, and he signed his name in English.

I halted at Kilba for a couple of days to rest and to
make ' final arrangements. This village is the head-
quarters of the Deputy Conservators of Forests. Wood-
cutting is carried on to a considerable extent ; and as most
of the labour has to be in}ported from the plains, a large
number of men are always scattered among the forests, for
whom provisions have to be supplied by the Forest
Department, from Piampiir, or even farther. The carriage
of these supplies takes some days, and when, through any
unforeseen circumstance, delay occurs and the stock of food
runs low, the scattered men are in some dano'er of beiutr
starved. Villages are so few, and the population so
scanty, that the people have little to spare for strangers,
and consequently Government has to undertake the
feeding of its employes.

The difficulty of obtaining supplies is a never-ending
annoyance to the tourist or sportsman in the Himalayas.
Long experience had impressed this on me, so I set about

LAY IN SUPPLIES 251

collecting my supplies, and received most kind and valuable
help from my friend. In fact, but for bis assistance, not
only now, but during the whole time I remained in the
Baspa valley, my journey would have been impossible.
I was not lonu in collecting the food and other necessaries
I required ; he also made over to me four Balti coolies to
carry my luggage, and promised four more as soon as a
party arrived from Simla. I thus had eight men during
the whole period of my trip, and was freed to a very great
extent from the difficulties of local carriage. The traveller's
principal aim is to be as independent as possible of both
local carriage and supplies in that part of the country
where he intends to pass most of his time. If he is fully
equipped in these respects, his presence will not incon-
venience the people, and he may depend on their good-will
and assistance.

I was advised to collect supplies from each village I
passed. In this way, by the time I reached my shooting
grounds beyond the last village, I had enough to last me
to the end of my trip. Myself, three servants, and eight
coolies, made twelve mouths to feed, and the consumption
would be about nine seers (2 lbs.) of flour and three seers
of other eatables, or twelve seers per diem — nine maunds
(80 lbs.) for a month. Half of this quantity I obtained
from my friend's stores, and it was not difficult to make
up the other moiety from the villages as I passed along.

I began my long tramp on the 13 th of May. M.
accompanied me to below the village of Sapni, and then
returned, leaving me to my own resources. The Baspa is
a large clear stream where it falls into the Sutlej, a
pleasant contrast to the muddy current of the latter.
The valley is very confined here, and the hillsides are very
abrupt. I saw a brace of Kolsa pheasants and a number
of very pretty small birds, one species with very long

252 THE BASPA VALLEY

and slender white tail-feathers. I have seen them at times
in the plains in wooded country during the cold months, so
that these little mites must be great travellers ; they are
very quick in their movements, flashing through the green
foliage like white lightning : I have never seen one in a
state of rest. I passed Chansu — or rather the fields below
it, that are on a large piece of flat ground, which ends in a
precipice facing the river. The edge of the precipice is lined
by splendid deodars, the roots of which are so interlaced with
the soil that they prevent the land from crumbling away
into the river. It is wonderful how these large trees
retain their hold in such a place ; if one fell, it would go
straight down into the river several hundred feet below.
The road traveller to-day passes through cool and pleasant
forests all the way ; but the valley is so confined, and the
hillsides so abrupt, that there is no extensive view in any
direction, until a sudden transformation scene takes place
at the bridge over the Baspa, a couple of miles before
reaching the village of Sangla, Some distance before
coming to the bridge, the river dashes down its steep and
rocky bed in frightful turmoil, resembling a river of milk
churned into foam. Nothing could be better calculated to
enhance the surprise that is awaiting you as you come
round a mountain spur to the bridge. The furious torrent
with its deafening roar shows the turbulence of a
Himalayan river in its roughest mood, from the bridge.
On your left, whence you have come, the raging waters
disappear ; on your right, a broad and limpid stream
gently murmurs over its pebbly bed. Looking up stream,
the valley is seen broad and open, the hillsides covered
with forest, and higher up topped by a snowy range ; on the
left, bare and forbidding mountains edged with rugged and
pointed peaks. In front flows the now placid stream, and,
farther on, level fields, thickly dotted with spreading

SAXGLA VILLAGE 253

walnut-trees. AValking through the fields along the foot-
path, tlie village of Kamru comes in sight, high up on the
hillside, also the Eajah's " Kot," or fort — a conspicuous
object, black and griroy from age, smoke, and dirt. The
houses of Sangla are just visible through the walnut-trees, a
long way off on a spur — the camping-place. Tradition has it
that this portion of the country was in former ages a lake ;
and the country round shows every indication of the truth
of the lefjend. The head-man of Sangla refers to the river in
ordinary conversation as Samunclar (sea), and there is a
temple dedicated to ISTag-deota (the serpent deity) in the
village. The sudden chano;e in the course of the river at
the bridge indicates very clearly the point where the lake
burst through and made its way to the Sutlej. A couple of
hundred pounds of dynamite, used now on the hillside near
the bridge, would certainly close the passage again and
re-form the lake above.

I experienced here a decided difference in the climate
— I felt really cold in bed during the night ! "Walking
through the village in the morning, I visited the Nag-deota
and Lama temples, and noticed an array of stags' antlers
and barhal horns in the public buildings between the two.
The head-man of the village, by name Dhian Das, and the
pujari (priest) of the Nag temple, are intelligent men,
and gave information about the passes without any
hesitation. They told me that the Garhwdl passes were
open, but no traders had come across yet. The " China "
(Chinese, meaning Tibetan) passes would not be fit for
travel for another month. These men said it was twenty
days' journey from this to the place in Tibet where they
go with their rice to trade. They mean " sheep journeys,"
which are short stages — the most the laden sheep can do
in a day, grazing as they march. These short stages
are called by the people of the country " ddhi-roti," or half-

254 THE BASPA VALLEY

a-cake journey — a very expressive term. The Sangia people
buy rice from the Garhwal traders, and, loading it up on
their sheep in small bags, take it to Tibet, where they
barter it for wool and salt : the former article, they said,
was now very dear. A very curious reason was given in
explanation of the fact that Tibetans do not come to trade
in this direction : their sheep, it was said, cannot cross
passes, filing along narrow mountain tracks, one after the
other. This is because they are plains sheep, accustomed
to wander in " open order " on the flat table-lands of their
mountain home ! If they were driven along a narrow
track, they would huddle over each other and would come
to grief.

I did a good trade here, and was now not at all anxious
about running short of supplies during my stay in the
upper valley.

There are two, if not three, level stretches of land at
the bottom of the valley, like steps descending from the
country above. The river runs broad and smooth along
the level, and then cuts its way by a narrow channel
through the steep slope down to the next plain. To me it
appeared that these steps were at one time a succession of
lakes, connected by a streamlet, and that their waters were
gathered eventually in the largest and lowest, above the
present site of the bridge. When the opening to the
Sutlej was formed, all these mountain lakelets were sucked
dry by the big river, and in the course of ages the Baspa
cut through the soil and formed its present deep channel.
The hill slopes are well wooded, and small forests of pines
and other trees are frequent in the valley, but I saw none
of large girth. Approaching Eakcham, the path changes
to every variety common to mountain tracks — over slippery
granite rocks, then along several log bridges, across chasms
between huge boulders ; and at two places, notched logs,

WILD WOMEN 255

by way of ladders, to ascend masses of rock on one side
and to descend from them on the other. These specimens
of a Himalayan road occur within a space of two hundred
yards. Those of us who wore boots or shoes had to take
them off and climb barefooted. Just below this break-neck
path is Eakcham itself, a black and grimy village of half a
dozen wooden houses, planted in several feet of foul mud.
Most of the miserable huts are built against the rock ;
these are filthy in the extreme, and the inhabitants are
filthier still. The women are extraordinarily timid.
Whenever I met them on the road, or even passed them
at a distance working in a field, they invariably took to
liifrht, and hid behind rocks and trees till I was out of
sight — for all the world like wild animals, from which, I
am sure, they were not many degrees removed. It was
very cold and cloudy in the evening. The elevation of
Eakcham is 10,44.5 feet.

There was slight rain in the night and snow on the
mountain-tops. The morning was pleasant, but foggy,
much warmer than the previous evening. After 2 p.m.
the cold rapidly increases, as from that hour the wind
generally begins to blow down from the snows, and lowers
the temperature considerably. A trader from Eam-Serai,
in Garhwal, who came over with rice twelve days ago by
the Eupin Pass, said the passage w^as not difficult. Eam-
Serai is eight marches from Eakcham. My informant
professed ignorance of the names of the stages in Tibetan
territory ! Even in this remote corner, the exclusiveness
of China is felt and respected. This man, no doubt, had
been warned by the Tibetans to give no help or informa-
tion regarding the country beyond the pass ; all I could
get out of him was that the country is bare and stony,
and that sheep are not grazed there.

I left Eakcham at 9 p.m. and reached Chitkiil at 1 p.m.,

256 THE BASPA VALLEY

seven miles. The road runs along the right side of the
valley, ascending and descending the hill slopes. The
forests were thinner and the trees smaller; I noticed
stunted birches growing on the level of the valley for the
first time. It was rainy and foggy in the evening, after
a sunless day. Barhal are said to be found farther on.
I prepared for a start v/ith a light camp, leaving most of
my things in charge of a servant at Chitkul, in a house I
Q-ot from the head-man.

CHAPTEE XVII

THE UPPEE BASPA

Bad weatlier— A plurality of fethers— " Garokchs "— The village god— How
he M-as propitiated— Proceed to the upper valley— My lirst barhal-stalk
—A "bootless" tramp— A good shot— Anparh, the shikari, is not
wasteful— The side valleys of the Upper Baspa— Dangerous pathway— A
stone-shoot — Narrow escape of my servant— Balti coolies behave well—
A chance at a ram— A good shot— The wily ram shelves himself—
Yakub's ascent after lawful mutton— The ram is perverse— Halaled at
last— "Never again," says Yakub— A grand panorama— Anparh's
tactics— Temperature of the valley— Heavy snowstorm — Elevation of
the camp— Of the Gugerang Pass— Tibetans and their sheep— An ugly
S2iecimen of humanity— I fall ill— Uncertain weather continues—
Flowers peep out with doubting hearts — Indisposition, blue devils,
collapse — A quick recovery.

It snowed during the night, and next morning all the
valley was white and the tents covered. At six o'clock
the thermometer marked 36°. The bad weather was
unfortunate, as it delayed my progress, but it had this
advantage, that it would drive the game lower down, and
stalking would be a much easier business. It began to
snow again at half-past seven, but I arranged with the
garokchs (priest) to go with me after barhal ; he was
the son of the man that M. recommended me to take.
The father went out with my friend when he came up
here last year, and I was informed that he was dead, but
the priest now told me that that was another father ! This
puzzled me a good deal, and inspired my Musalman ser-
17

258 THE UPPER BASPA

vants with horror and disgust. The fact is, polyandry is
rampant in this valley ; and it is impossible for a son, be
he ever so wise, to know his own father within, say, half
a dozen, or whatever the number of the brothers in the
family may be ! In this instance a father had died, but
not the one known to my friend.

The word " garokchs " is an awful one to pronounce ; it
means the priest, or the man in charge of the village god.
The nearest approach to it in English is as I have spelt it,
but the proper pronunciation of the word is impossible to
an unaccustomed tongue without danger to the muscles of
that organ. The man who volunteered to come with me
was strong, intelligent, and keen on shikar; but he said
the dcota (god) of the village must be propitiated before
we could hope for sport. M., he informed me, went out
and got nothing ; then he made an offering of two rupees
to the god, and immediately had excellent sport. This
logic was irresistible ; I gave in at once.

All arrangements being reported complete, I went down
to the village, had the deota taken out of his abode, and
asked him to be kind. He was brought out in a sedan

o

chair fixed on two long and flexible poles, like the familiar
jhampan of the hill stations. It was made of red cloth
with a silver roof embossed with faces ; above this was an
umbrella-shaped construction, with long locks of hair taken
from yaks' tails. The chair was carried by two men, back-
wards and forwards, a few paces in front of the priest, my
future shikari's father. When the god came opposite him,
the chair was shaken violently up and down and then
inclined towards the priest ; this was done twice. On the
second occasion my servant offered two rupees to the son,
who was standing close by. He mumbled something,
meaning, I suppose, that it was not enough — so one rupee
more was placed in his hand. He then took the money

A "ROOTLESS" TRAMP 259

to his father ; the god was shaken more violently than
ever, and brought to a standstill. The priest bent down
and seemed to have a conversation with the god. After
this the son approached and told me that the deota was
rdzi (propitiated), that I was at liberty to go anywhere,
and I should get good sport. Of course their music ac-
companied these holy functions — two big drums and a
brass pot. The god had a firm seat on his chair ; the
shakings he got made me anxious lest he should tumble
out, and such an accident would perhaps have been fatal
to my prospects.

The next march brought me up close to the barhal
ground, and I sighted a flock for the first time, but they
were high up in a grassy valley, and it was too late in the
day to attempt a stalk. We met a large flock of sheep
from Garhwal, that had crossed the Bardsii Pass the day
before. They were bringing rice to Chitkiil. The village
god, whose name, by the way, is Mathi, was taken to-day
to Eakcham, to bring rain, which was wanted for the crops.
The day was sunny and hot at times ; then windy, rainy,
and cold. The rain came from the upper valley and passed
down towards Eakcham ; so Mathi scored.

We started at five o'clock on a very cold morning, and
went straight up from camp after the barhal sighted last
evening. The ascent took us first up a stony nala and
then along a hillside that became steeper at every yard,
but at last we got up to the snow. I had on an old pair
of boots with soles as slippery as glass ; my progress was
not at all satisfactory, and soon, in fact, became dangerous.
I had at last to take my boots off and trust to my stockinged
feet. I felt much safer, but on the sharp points of the
frozen soil I feared my soles would be cut to pieces. We
were, however, near the ground where the wild sheep had
been sighted, and excitement kept me up. No traces of

26o THE UPPER BASPA

the animals could be found, so we went up farther, crossing
the steep sides of two more ravines. At last the barhal
were sighted on a slope above us, grazing along towards
the snow. We crept along until we came to a rocky
ridce, beyond which we could not go without instant
discovery. A ravine full of snow lay between us and the
game — distance about two hundred yards. At first only
ewes were sighted ; they were evidently alarmed, for they
were moving off in their usual leisurely way. Suddenly
Anparh, the shikari, called out, " Mdnda, sdhih, menda"
(a ram, sir, a ram), and I spotted him following the five
ewes. He was going up very slowly, and whenever he
stopped he had his tail towards me — he did not seem to
understand the alarm of the females. Something must have
frightened them, but evidently they had not seen us yet.
At last the ram stood for a moment showing his left side.
I fired and missed. He then turned, went up some dis-
tance, and stood again, giving me a slanting shot at his
right shoulder. This time I hit him in the small ribs, the
bullet passing up towards his neck. He walked up a few
yards and then rolled down dead. The distance could not
have been less than 250 yards. The sun was facing me,
and I could hardly see the foresight through the glare, so
had little hope of making a good shot ; but I had a rest to
fire from, and the Henry Express shot up to the mark.
Yakiib, who had accompanied me, was disappointed about
the halal; he shook his head as he scanned the ground
between himself and the dead game, and let the meat go
with a sigh of regret. The coolie went across and rolled
the ram down to the snow, and then dragged it along to us.
It was skinned and cut up on the snow. Anparh and his
companion did not waste a morsel ; he first cut the tes-
ticles off and put them carefully by in his waistband ; he
even made an attempt to collect the blood in the emptied

DANGEROUS PATHWAY 261

paunch, to the horror of Yakiib, who called him a vulture.
The horns measured only IQh inches — not worth keeping —
and all the hair was coniiug off the skin. The beast's age,
according to the rings on the horns, would be eight years,
and they were small for a ram of that age.

My feet were not cut, not even the soles of the stockings,
much to my surprise, after the agony I had suffered ; I had
made certain of being laid up for several days. It would
be a great thincr to be able to walk barefoot when occasion
required, but the practice necessary to acquire this accom-
plishment would be an experience that few, I imagine,
would undertake.

I was out again at 5 a.m. on the hillsides between
Dwarea and Chitkul ; we went up steadily for four hours,
and at last sighted three barhal, but in such a situation
that we could not get at them until they crossed a ridge.
When we got up to the same point, no living thing was in
sight. Somehow we had made a mess of the stalk, though
it appeared an easy enough one. I concluded that one of
the ewes of the flock had been acting sentry on the ridge,
and gave the alarm as soon as we showed ourselves. The
view we had of the snowy valley opposite was the grandest
I had seen here yet ; it is like an amphitheatre topped by
white peaks all round, and the level bottom also covered
with snow.

Up the valley the stream comes round a tremendous
precipice, and the path follows it on the right bank.
Farther on, the track passes along the steep and crumbling
slope of mountain — an awkward path, as we discovered.
Stones, large and small, were continually falling from
above, and we were obliged to run back the first time we
tried to cross this dangerous bit. The bad footing com-
pelled slow progress, but the frequency of stone showers
recommended speed. It was a ticklish undertaking, but

262 THE UPPER BASPA

we managed to dodge across, untouched by sundry pro-
jectiles which came whizzing down. The Balti coolies,
though carrying heavy loads, crossed nimbly, timing their
passage by keeping a steady watch above. The stones
seemed to be detached by the wind, which raged in fierce
gusts along the crest above us. The fall of a fairly large
stone could be followed by the puffs of dust as it ricocheted
down the hillside. Only one coolie and the khidmatgar
remained to cross. Just as they came to the dangerous bit,
we saw a fall of stones coming, and shouted to them to go
back. The coolie returned promptly, but the fool of a
khidmatgar, after retreating one step, lost his head and
stood stock-still. We, not -forty yards from him, watched
the stones hurling past on both sides of him, but by
marvellous luck not one touched him ! The man just
turned his back on the hillside and stood screwed up
while the shower lasted ; but the fright dazed him, and
when the danger was over he would not move until, shout-
ing having failed, a coolie went and led him across. It
would not have required a large stone to knock him over
into the river fifty yards below, where he must have been
drowned. The four Baltis were capital fellows : they
carried enormous loads, were extremely willing, and put
their hands to everything in camp. As we were reaching
the camping-place, Siiancho by name, some likely barhal
ground came in view, and I started on ahead with Anparh.
Shortly after, we sighted nine wild sheep coming along the
hillside towards us ; we went on to meet them, but they
soon got suspicious, and went back. Anparh said they
were coming down for a drink.

At six o'clock next morning we made a start up a
narrow gully, then up very steep, crumbling, stony slopes
and steeper grassy hillsides. I stayed at some rocks, and
Anparh went about looking for the barhal, but he came

HUNT AFTER RAMS 263

back unsuccessful. The coolie at last descried three
animals grazing on a distant hillside ; they seemed to be
ewes, but after breakfast, and when the sheep had gone
over the slope, we followed, in hopes of a ram being in the
flock. We went down some very bad places and up those
tiresome crumbling slopes for an hour, peeped over the
ridge, and made a careful survey. No barhal in sight ; it
was very disappointing, for the climb had been severe.
At last Anparh discovered five barhal lying down on a
distant ridge, and sharply defined against the sky-line, and oh,
ever so much higher than the point we had attained after
such fearful toil ! I examined the beasts carefully with
the telescope, a very powerful one by Steward, and made
out five splendid rams — two of them with grand heads ;
one had apparently only one horn. They were, however,
masters of the situation ; we could not move an inch
beyond the rocks, where we were hiding, without instant
detection. Here we remained four hours. This is the
kind of thing which tests the patience of the most enduring
sportsman. I was scorched by the mid-day sun on one
side and cut through by the icy blasts from the snows on
the other, till the rams left their secure perch and dis-
appeared. We were just preparing to cross over, when
two ewes came over the ridge, some distance below the
point where the rams had taken their siesta, and ran down
in our direction : we were baulked again. After a time
the females disappeared, and at the same moment the old
rams came in sight again, and seemed inclined to follow
them. So we prepared to descend the ridge on our side
and catch them lower down.

But this was not to be. We were just on the move
when Yakiib peeped over for a last look and exclaimed,
" The rams are running up again ! " We were endeavour-
ing to discover the cause of their retreat, when a flock of

264 THE UPPER BASPA

one ram and five ewes appeared just below us, running up
the hillside we overlooked ; the latter did not seem to be
alarmed, but the wary old rams took the hint at once and
returned the way they had come. I then fixed my
attention on the flock below, and took a shot at the ram
as he stood for a moment about 200 yards off. I had
put up the second sight, and the bullet, of course, went
over him ; but the next shot hit him in the root of the tail
as he was going up hill, and stopped him at once. The
distance was not less than 250 yards. He went up to
some rocks and lay down, evidently very sick. I had four
more shots at him in that position about 300 yards off,
but failed to touch him. At last Anparh went down, got
above him, and drove him towards my right front. He
was too badly hurt to go fast, and at last jumped or rolled
down to the bottom of the ravine and there remained, for
stones failed to move him, and at last we had to go down-
As we approached, he slowly mounted some rocks about
thirty yards above us, a most difficult climb, and lay down
again. I would not fire, as the poor beast was mortally
wounded. Though his perch was only a few feet above
our heads, it seemed impossible for a biped to reach
him. He was dying before our eyes ; he lay stretched
on the ledge, just broad enough to hold him, while
Yakiib, knife in hand, was eyeing him with an expression
which eloquently reflected his distress that good mutton
should escape his fleshpots, though almost within reach
of the arm shaking with eagerness to hakil ! The temp-
tation was too great ; he volunteered to go up if we
would give him a hand. It took us about ten minutes to
get the man up, and, just as he was getting the knife out of
his belt, the ram kicked in his dying throes, and pushed
himself over the ledge, falling with a crash to the bottom
of the nala, nearly on our heads. The angry and dis-

■CROUCHED ON THE ROCK ABOVE, KMFE IN HAND.

HALALED AT LAST 265

appointed Yakub, crouched on the rock above, knife in
liand, glaring down at the carcase, was a picture. But
now there was still less time to lose if the mutton was to
be made lawful, so we got the little man down as quickly
as we could, and the ceremony was performed ; it was a
mere detail, of course, that the animal was stone dead before
the knife touched his throat. As Yakilb wiped his knife
on the ram's body, he said, " The Baltis may say what they
like, but I am not going to risk my life again to get lawful
meat for them ! "

It seems that these men, who are all Musalmans, were
greatly scandalised when they discovered that the first
ram I had shot had not been halaled, and they spoke
feelingly on the subject of good mutton falling into the
hands of the heathen. My servant, in a weak moment,
promised that the next animal should certainly be fit for
orthodox mouths, hence his gallant efforts ; but it was his
last attempt in the good cause. Ever after, a Balti coolie
formed one of my shikar party for the express purpose of
halaling bagged game, but my luck was so bad that the
man had not many opportunities of using his knife.

We left the carcase on the snow, taking only the head
with us down to camp. On my way I came across a
frozen waterfall, a beautiful sight. The ram was brought
down next morning and cut up. I sent a quarter of wild
mutton to my friend's wife at Kilba, whose kindness in
looking after my commissariat could not be sufficiently
acknowledged. The horns of the ram were 17 \ inches in
length, and girth at base 11 ^ inches; they were not worth
keeping. The bullet broke the hind leg near the back-
bone, entirely smashing it ; the spine too must have been
injured, as the hind-quarters of the animal seemed paralysed
when he endeavoured to get away. The bullet was the
usual Eley's "450 Express, driven by five drams of powder.

266 THE UPPER BASPA

A No. 3 shot was found in the neck of the ram ; Anparh
said that people travelling through the valley sometimes
bagged wild sheep with shot ! Anparh tried his best to
allure me back to the village with wonderful tales of
enormous rams to be found in the valleys near it. I was
too old to be taken in, but allowed him to go home for a
couple of days to keep him in good-humour. He was now
the most important personage in my party, as he knew tlie
pass and road into Tibet, and could speak the language of
that country. I began to see now that there was not two
months shikar in this valley — nor even ten days ; and I
was maturing a plan to steal over the Gugerang Pass into
Tibet, and perhaps, if I was lucky, to get a few shots at
Ovis ammon. Anparh was my stand-by, but he fought shy
of the idea, and displayed great apprehension whenever the
subject was broached, even in the most general way. But
by cautious handling, and bakshish, I was sanguine that I
and Yakiib would be able to bring him into a proper frame
of mind by the day when our dash across the pass was to
be made. We therefore humoured him a good deal.

The thermometer at 4 p.m. was 48°, at 8 p.m. 30°, and
during the night it fell below freezing point, as a glass
of water on the table had a cake of ice on its surface.
This was not bad for the end of May at the bottom of
the valley, for these temperatures were taken inside the
tent. Next morning we went towards Di'mti, on the
path up the valley, to look for barhal, but saw nothing.
The road was bad in places, but fit for laden coolies.
Clouds were hanging about, and the cold increased, and
towards evening it came on to snow and rain, the
fall on the hill-tops being very heavy. The snow con-
tinued through the night, and the tents were covered.
The thermometer at 9 p.m. was 28°, at 6 a.m. next
morning 26°, and at noon 60°. It cleared up at last, and

ELEVATION OF THE CAMP 267

the cloudless sky was that intense azure seen only from
these elevated regions. The snowy mountains looked
very brilliant in the bright sunshine, and contrasted
beautifully with the intense blue above. A delicious
breeze blew up the valley, and my enjoyment was com-
plete as in the evening I went on the back path a couple
of miles down the valley, less for game than to meet the
post, for which I was getting impatient.

Snow again during the night. Gerard, in his book on
Kanawar and this portion of the Himalayas, says that the
fall of the Baspa river is 250 feet per mile, and that
Chitkul village is 11,400 feet high. Suancho, where I
was camped ten miles above the village, would therefore
be 13,900 feet above sea level, and the Gugerang Pass,
which I intended to cross, not less than 18,000 feet.
About 5 P.M. I heard a shepherd's whistle, and, rushing
out of the tent to have a look at the new arrivals,
found the Jadhs (as the people of the Baspa valley call
the Tibetans), with a flock of sheep, had arrived from their
country. Anparh had told me they could not possibly
be here for twelve days at least. There were eleven men
and four hundred sheep. I sent up two of the coolies
to bring one of the Tibetans down to the camp, but none
would come. When all the sheep had passed, the two
last men ventured down, but it was difficult to carry on
a conversation. The Balti coolies managed a few words
in their own language, but the result was not satisfactory.
One of them was a hideous old man with his two front
teeth projecting over his lips ; the other was a decent and
very intelligent-looking young man, much more reserved
and dignified than his companion. The latter asked for
a smoke, and we gave him some tobacco in a chilam
(Indian pipe), which he said was good. They were
nine days from their village, the name of which 1 could

268 THE UPPER BASPA

not make out. The young man looked more like a
Chinese Tartar than the old one, and was evidently of a
superior breed. Their heads were bare except a short
plaited tail behind. They had two miserable dogs with
them — very poor creatures. The sheep were large and
strong, and carried very heavy fleeces, which they would
leave behind in the Baspa valley. They all carried salt
in small woollen bags. There was no snow this evening
in the valley, but higher up there was a storm, and the
breeze was blowing down instead of up. There was a
heavy fall of snow at night, the lieaviest we had had yet ;
it must have come from the higher valley ; usually the
storms came across the range from the Garhwal side
At 6 A.M. the thermometer was at freezing point, but
the sun came out strong, and the snow rapidly disappeared.
A very cold wind was blowing from the upper valley, and I
stayed in the tent, having contracted a bad cold during
the night. A particularly fine evening ; the young moon
in the very blue sky was a glorious sight. Next day the
breeze was cold and dry, and the sun very hot. The
rhubarb stalks were springing along the level of the stream,
and I saw one plant whose central stem was ten inches
high. . Very few flowers were visible — in fact, the little
yellow scolloped one was the only flower that had as yet the
courage to peep above the ground ; and this at the end of
May ! Anparh and the coolies of his village came in
the evening.

My cold left me, but indigestion and nausea took
possession, and I had only two cups of beef-tea during
twenty-four hours. These complications were caused by
my four days' inaction at this cam]3. I left Siiancho
camp and reached Dunti after a very wearying march of
four hours. All strength seemed to have left me, and I
was hardly able to get up the shortest ascents ; I never

A QUICK RECOVERY 269

felt so helpless in my lite. The depression of spirits, too, was
great. After every tug up the road I was on the point of
giving orders to return, for I felt so utterly played out that
I imagined I could never reach the next stage, about three
miles on. But I got in at last, and, after a rest and
some food, things began to look brighter. My illness
was slight, and could not be accountable for such an utter
collapse of energy and strength ; the high elevation had
something to do with it. At these great altitudes it
would seem that the slightest illness prostrates one
entirely, and I can easily understand how people of weak
constitution, in bad health, or with diseased organs —
hearts or lungs — succumb so quickly from exposure on
lofty mountains. My walk did me good, for the in-
digestion disappeared. Just as we started from camp,
we saw nine barhal grazing on a grassy slope above,
but they seemed to be all ewes, and I was not fit to go
after them.

Dunti is a large plain, and the river runs along its
left edge, at the foot of the range. Anparh informed me
that the hill-tops here are under the special protection of
the god Kardii. This information, as I foresaw, was
preliminary to the usual ceremony of propitiation, in which
Her Majesty's head, in silver, plays such an important
part. My guide was far too diplomatic to make the
sutTQ-estion at once. He bided his time for the appropriate
moment — probably when a ram with splendid horns
would be sighted, looking down on us from a distant
peak. That would be a propitious sign for me, and for
Anparh also. I would in imagination have a foretaste of
the successful stalk, while Anparh would say to himself,
" There is the messenger of the good deota demanding his
rights."

CHAPTEE XVIII

THE UPPER BASPA — {continued)

Another stalk — Ends in failure — But bag a ram next day — Excellent
though unsanetified chops — The god Kardu is S(juared at last — Features
of the upper valley — A tramp among the hill-tops — 17,000 feet above
sea level — Freezing cold and melting heat again — The Tibetan gale
drives us back — Driven to bed in desperation — An airy bedroom —
Nature freezes most audibly — Give up my intended tramp — Take a
walk round the base of the peak — Return to camp — A snowstorm —
Beautiful effect in moonlight — A dash for Tibet — Anparh — An en-
livening episode — Garhwalis "lift" a complete Tibetan encamimient —
They try to trade on their own account — Tibetans object.

The next day was given up to correspondence, as the post
had at last come in. I went for a walk in the evening
by the hillside down the valley, and sighted a flock of
wild sheep. Anparh conducted the stalk, and did it well ;
but at the critical moment a loose slate slipped from
under his foot, and as he put his head over the crest of
the ridge, he was seen at once — a whistle, and the whole
flock of ten scattered in all directions. The ram was
lying down not fifty yards from our position, and as
Anparh peeped over, their eyes met, and the barhal
vanished before I ever saw him. No doubt the noise of
the falling slate had directed his gaze, and we had come
too close — as great a mistake when you have a trusty
Express as it is to go to the other extreme. In the
present instance, however, we had lost sight of the game,

270

UNSANCTIFIED CHOPS 271

as the ground was very much broken. While the animals
were clambering up the rocks above us, I had three snap-
shots, but missed ; the sun was low down, and blazing
full in my eyes, so I had not a fair chance. Keturning
late, long after sundown, Anparh spied some ewes across
the river a long way off, and, as meat was wanted in camp,
I had another shot, but the bullet fell short ; the distance
must have been over 300 yards. I had four hours'
good rough walking and scrambling, and did it well,
though the cold in my head had by no means left me.

The next morning I was more successful : I got a wild
sheep after a long and tiresome stalk. Yakub declined to
go down and cut the animal's throat, so Anparh and his
friends (including myself) had the meat all to ourselves :
there were glum faces among the Balti coolies ! A great
deal of fat came out of this barhal, and the chops I had
for dinner were capital. Now that I had drawn blood in
the dominions of His Majesty Kardu, Anparh thought the
time had come for the usual offering, but he was con-
siderate. Instead of demanding silver, he asked for two
seers (four pounds) of flour and a quarter of a seer of ghi
(butter). I was informed that when Wilson Sahib came
here five years ago he was taken seriously ill, and had to
offer a goat to Kardii before he got well. It struck me
at once that Anparh was making capital out of my recent
illness ; but I did not demur, and the articles were weighed
out to him. If I could get this primitive man to lead me
across Giigerang into Tibet, even for a few days, I should
regard it as ample recompense.

On the 1st of June I started for a four days' tramp
among the hill-tops, the only way, apparently, of circum-
venting the old rams. After a tremendous grind of three
and a half hours we made camp on an open grassy space
under the great peak, 21,221 feet high, which overlooks

ifi THE UPPER BASPA

Di'inti. This was a very trying trudge indeed, and,
though it was ten o'clock when we stopped, water had
not yet begun to flow, everything being still frozen hard.
We must have been at least 17,000 feet up. The last
part of the ascent was distressing for the lungs : I coughed
much, but had no other disagreeable symptoms. My
appetite, however, did not suffer, and I made a good break-
fast. Only four of us remained up — myself, Yakiib, Anparh,
and a coolie ; I sent the other men back to the main
camp. The sun after a couple of hours was blazing hot ; no
shelter of any kind could be had, but when a breeze sprang
up it was cool enough. We went out at three o'clock,
in the direction of and above Si'iancho. After noon the
wind had begun to rise, and by the time we started it was
blowing a gale up the valley, frightfully cold and penetrat-
ing. I had on an overcoat, a cap well over my ears, and
thick, warm gloves, yet I felt miserable. Anparh and the
coolie were much worse off, but they held out manfully.
We carefully searched all likely places, but saw nothing.
We were just above the spot where the five rams had
been sleeping a few days ago, but all the hillsides below
us now were empty — and for a good reason, I afterwards
reflected : I had fired eleven shots down there only a few
days before. Siiancho did not seem very far off, and, in
fact, looking from above, the extent of country seemed
very small. Looking up from below, I was under the
impression that there was no end of shooting ground, but
reversing the view gave an idea just the reverse. The
piercing wind at last drove us back to camp, though we
could not have been away more than an hour, nor have
gone more than half a mile. I took refuge at the fire,
where Yakiib was cooking the cakes for dinner, and stayed
there. The pungent smoke was at last too much for me ;
but I shrank from going to bed because of the cold.

AN AIRY BEDROOM 273

So I went to Anparli's fire and spent some time turning
him inside out on the manners and customs of his family
and people. I was soon tired of this, for the juniper
smoke almost blinded me and also made my head ache.

My bedroom was certainly open and airy enough : the
vault of heaven was the roof, and a level spot on the hill-
side the floor. I tucked myself in comfortably, spread
the waterproof sheet over all, and made Yakiib secure it
all round with heavy stones. The wind had died away,
the clouds had disappeared, and the stars were brilliantly
shining. But a look at the thermometer at 6 p.m. had
told me that the temperature then was 30°. Everything
round me was freezing fast and hard ; the tinkle of the
rill of water from the snow-bank above, flowing a few feet
from my bed, was fast growing fainter, till at last it ceased.
I could not sleep ; in my anxiety to ward off cold, I had
made myself too warm, and I had difficulty in breathing.
I imagined I could hear things freezing round me. The
waterproof over me was coated with the hoar-frost which,
in the lovely moonlight, I watched spreading over the grass
by me. The grim peak, 21,000 feet high, just overhead
caught my eye every time I peeped out. So much for
sleeping out in the open at 17,000 feet above sea level.

I was up at 5 a.m., as I heard Yakiib at the fire ; he was
busy thawing his shoes, which he had left out, and which
were frozen as hard as boards. He seemed impressed, but
said that he had passed a good night, though at first he
felt too warm and was suffocating. Everything was frozen,
and ice had to be melted to make the tea. I soon made up
my mind that I had had enough of it. My own suffering
and inconvenience were severe enough, but it was ten times
worse for those with me ; and as there was no sport to
compensate, we should be much better down below, I
explained this to the men, had the things packed and
18

274 THE UPPER BASPA

everything ready for a start in five minutes. The coolie
took a load and made for camp, whence he would send up
others for the rest.

We went higher up, to the base of the mighty peak
above, on a last attempt to find the big rams. We spent
hours skirting giant crags, passing over grassy slopes and
snow-beds alternately, but at last gave it up in despair.
There were no signs of game, neither fresh nor old. I
came to the reluctant conclusion that shooting in the Baspa
valley was a delusion and a snare, at least at this time of
the year, and was sorry for having wasted my leave in it.
I broke my good old alpenstock in getting down a snow-
bank : a faithful friend in many a ticklish place was that
thin and elastic bamboo. On the way down we picked up
the skull of a barhal ram, with horns 24 inches round the
curve : they were bleached and worn by the weather, and
must have been lying on that grassy slope for years. I
came down to camp so disgusted and disappointed that
I had no appetite for breakfast. I felt dyspeptic and
down-in-the-mouth, and had also a sore throat — the only
results of my trip up above.

There was a heavy snowfall during the night. All the
valley and hills got a new mantle, and the night scene
under a brilliant moon, after the storm, was beautiful.
The opposite hillsides were stencilled out in fantastic
patterns, the open spaces intensely white, the hollows in
shadow intensely black. The silence over all gave the
finishing touch.

The time having arrived, we made serious advances to
Anparh on the subject of the journey into Tibet. I was
resolved to waste no more time in this valley, and, as a
good deal of my leave remained, I determined to attempt
the pass at the head of the Baspa, and have a peep at
least into Tibet. My present position at the head of the

AN ENLIVENING EPISODE 275

valley was an opportunity of which I determined to make
use. The only difficulty was a trustworthy guide and
interpreter; Anparh was the man, but, as I have already
said, he had hitherto fought very shy of the idea. I had
tried all my powers of persuasion on him, and my servant
frequently had him in his tent, plying the chicken-hearted
aborigine with all the temptations that his imagination
could suggest. "We were thus delayed, working at Anparh,
when one evening, as I was strolling up the valley, I
suddenly spied a man across the river, and shortly after-
wards a large flock of laden sheep. This seemed strange,
as there was no road on that side and no grass to feed the
sheep. I hurried back to camp, brought up Anparh and
showed him the men and sheep. He at once said, " It is
those rascally Garhwalis who went into Bhot (Tibet) by
the Kuuchiirung Pass to trade on the sly, and are now
returning with some Jadhs (Tibetans) to show them the
way, and making for the Barasu Pass." We went down
to the river-bank to have a talk, and as soon as the
Tibetans saw us they rushed down to the stream on the
opposite bank, salaaming and gesticulating very excitedly,
shouting (for the Baspa was noisy) a torrent of words
quite incomprehensible, of course, to me. The Garhwiilis
kept aloof on the hillside, seeming intent on driving the
sheep ; but two of them came down and tried to prevent
the Tibetans from telling their story. This was most
singular, and I was in a state of extreme curiosity before
Anparh got at the facts.

These Garhwalis, it seems, were the very same men
who came down the Barasu Pass when my camp was at
Dwiiria, and whom I met in the evening going down to
Chitkiil. They would not trade at the latter village, but
went across the Charang Pass into Kiinchurung, saying
they would trade there ; but that was only a blind. They

276 THE UPPER BASPA

drove their sheep through that valley and went over the
Sholarang Pass into Tibet, intending to trade direct with
the Bhots, and thus save the " middleman's profits." It
seems that the trade mediation of the Baspas between
their neighbours is more than a mere practice ; it is a
recognised custom among these various peoples not to
trade direct, but to barter with the Baspa men, who pass
on the goods, making, of course, their own profit out of the
transaction. This unwritten law is strictly observed — by
none more so than by the inhabitants of this valley, to
whom a general infringement of it would be ruin. The
Tibetans, who are bound down very strictly by the laws
of their country in the matter of crossing frontiers, or of
allowing foreigners to do so, had never travelled into
Garhwal ; but the hardy and enterprising inhabitant of the
latter country is not sufficiently self-controlled to respect
the mutual law, and he breaks through it now and then,
as in this case. As soon as the Kiinchiirung people
discovered that the Garh walls had stolen a marcli on them,
they sent information to one Earn Bahadur, the Basahir
official, who looks after this portion of His Highness's
territories. This gentleman communicated with the
Tibetan authorities, and, when the enterprising Garhwalis
arrived in that country, they were at once seized, their
sheep and property confiscated, and they themselves sent
about their business without even a day's food — so they
said. They came back by the Giigerang Pass, and met a
party of Jadhs. They fell on these people at once, took
possession of their sheep and food, and made prisoners of
the owners. This occurred four days before I saw them.
The Garhwalis took them across the Baspa, high up the
mountain side, then came down by the Ni'lang road, and
were travelling along the opposite side of the valley on
their way to Garhwal when I saw them. This was

A SCRIMMAGE 277

evidently a reprisal for the treatment they had received
at Zcirang at the hands of the Tibetans. I invited both
parties to come across, saying I would hear both sides ;
but the Garhwalis became defiant, gesticulated wildly,
flourished their sticks, and refused to have anything to do
with me ; they would take the sheep on, happen what
might, and started off, forcing the Jadhs to accompany
them ; but the latter broke away, and the principal among
them rushed to the river-bank, fell on his knees, and,
joining his hands in an attitude of supplication, bellowed
piteously for protection from his enemies. The Garhwalis
followed him, handled him very roughly, throwing him
down and trying to drag him away. But he lay prone on
the bank, and shouted and roared louder than ever. I
and my men, with a deep and rapid river rushing between,
were helpless spectators of this scrimmage. The Tibetan,
however, resisted so vigorously that his assailants left him
after administering sundry thumps and kicks. The other
Jadhs had fled up the river to find a crossing-place,
and the Garhwalis went on with the sheep. Though
Anparh was much incensed against the Garhwalis and
abused them roundly, he soon cooled down, and threw
them a pellet of tobacco across the stream, as they said
they were dying for a smoke

The Jadhs came into my camp two hours later ; they had
had to go far up the valley to find a safe ford. I gave
them a good feed of bread and meat and tea, and a nip of
whisky all round at the end. They were grateful, and so
cheerful that one would not have thought they had been
so recently plundered of all they possessed. The tea was
put into a dugchi (cooking vessel) full of water and boiled
on the fire, then some salt was thrown in, and, when the
decoction was ready, every Tibetan produced his cup from
inside his coat, and the tea was ladled out. Some sugar

278 THE UPPER BASPA

was put in each cup, and then each man dipped a bit of
his cake into the liquid (it was very thin indeed), and ate
decently and slowly, though they must have been hungry
enough. They then smeared the cakes with ghi, and when
the meat was boiled, finished off with that. The head-man,
who turned out to be the Panbuh or head-man of Zarang,
remarked that there were three kinds of tea, and that this
which he was drinking was the best. As it was Pulam-
pore orange pekoe, his taste was undeniable. Danam, the
head-man of Zarang, was a small man, w^ell dressed and
clean-looking, well bred, and evidently of a class superior
to his companions ; something like a well-to-do head-man
of a village down in the plains of India. This was the
gentleman who went down on his knees and roared for
help on the banks of the river, and who was hammered by
the Garhwalis. His conversation and gestures were very
sprightly, and he talked incessantly, describing his mis-
fortunes and abusing his enemies. But everything was
done in a gentlemanly and well-bred manner (quite different
from his companions, who treated him with respect, though
in eating and drinking there was perfect equality), his
bearing free and unembarrassed in the extreme. He was
always addressed as " Panboh," a word I had not heard
before ; it evidently bears some relationship to the Burmese
" Boh," with which we have now become so familiar.
Another man, by name Temdians, of village Tangi, a
zami'ndar, was a very ugly specimen of humanity ; he had
a very pronounced hare-lip, and his front teeth projected
hideously from the aperture; his dress was dirty in the
extreme. These Tibetans had been deprived of 227 sheep,
220 bags of salt, 2i bags of porridge flour, half a bag of
wheat, 1 bag of tea, 5 sheep-loads of ghi, and other matters.
All the sheep had heavy fleeces — the most valuable part of
the plundered property. When the Panboh and his party

JADH COSTUME 279

left us, Anparh went with them, and a coolie was sent off
in the morning to Chitkul, that the authorities there
might stop the Garhwalis before they could cross the
Bardsi'i Pass.

A snowstorm came on shortly after my visitors left ;
but apparently it takes a good deal of bad weather to
stop a Jiidh. His head is bare in all weathers, and he
wears only one woollen coat nearly down to his heels, a
waistband round his middle ; this is his full costume at
this season. The coat is very loose ; when the weather is
warm, he slips his arms out of the sleeves, and the upper
part of his garment hangs down below the waist; when
the cold is bitter, he pulls his coat a little tighter round
him. The waistband converts the upper part of his coat
into a capacious receptacle next his skin, in which he
carries all his necessaries — cup, pipe, tobacco-bag, flour-
bag, and other sundries — not forgetting a small book of
prayers, which is taken out and diligently read when there
is nothing else to do. This latter circumstance impressed
me. Every Tibetan is educated, at least in such degree
that he can read and write.

My servant reported that Anparh had at last agreed to
pilot us across the Gugerang, on the distinct understanding
that the period was not to extend beyond fourteen days,
and that he was to be paid one rupee a day while he
remained across the pass. He said he would take me to
the villages of Tungi and Zarang, which are on the other
side, and see what game could be had beyond those places.
He protested, at the same time, that no wild yak or Ovis
ammon were anywhere within reach. My intention was,
if possible, not to return this way, but to get back by
Puling, Siimdo, and Nilang, and down the Bhagirati (one
of the sources of the Ganges), to India. Anparh, however,
did not know that country. There was snow again at

28o THE UPPER BASPA

night ; in the morniEg everything was hidden in a white
sheet.

Danam Panboh had said there was nothing to be had in
the Zarang direction, and that last year two sahibs, whose
names sounded in his mouth like " Charley " and " Davis,"
had crossed the frontier some distance away to the east,
and in consequence the Tibetan ofhcials in charge of that
portion of the frontier had all been beheaded, their bodies
sewn up in leather bags and thrown into the river. He
could not name the place where this had occurred ; but as
soon as I mentioned Darjiling and Jalap-la, he at once
repeated those names several times, and said those were
the places. Since then, he said, fresh orders had come,
enforcing greater strictness in guarding the passes and
preventing Europeans from crossing. This was the only
result of the much-trumpeted Macaulay Mission !

The night of the 4th June brought a very hard frost.
Even stones and rocks were glazed into shining smoothness
till the sun touched them. I went out at 7 a.m. to look
for barhal, in the hope that the inclement weather had
driven them down from cloudland, and after a short walk
I saw some on the slope below the peak where I spent
that memorable night 17,000 feet above sea level. I
watched the barhal till there was a chance of getting
closer ; but as this did not occur till ten o'clock, I sent for
breakfast. With the telescope I could make them out
quite plainly : there were twelve lying about with their
legs stretched out and their heads on the ground, just
like so many dogs. The only ram in the flock lay at full
length, the picture of repose ; I could fancy I heard him
snoring. They were all manifestly enjoying a mid-day nap
in the warm sun after the bad weather of the last few
days. After half an hour's rest and breakfast I began the
ascent, a most trying one, as the slope was frightfully steep.

YAKUB COLLAPSES 281

and the wind became colder and stronger at every step.
It took us fully two hours to reach the point from which
I was to have my shot; and then, on looking over, not an
animal was to be seen ! This was a horrible disappoint-
ment. In going up we had made a couple of mistakes,
and had shown ourselves each time ; the wild sheep had
not been so sound asleep as we thought them to be, and
had seen us. Perhaps if Anparh had been with us we
would have been more successful, as he had perfect know-
ledge of the ground. We had taken the shortest way —
there was another and a longer one, which it doubtless
would have been more prudent to follow. Y;ikub collapsed
at the end, and came down suffering from pains in his
chest and head. We got down to the tent at four o'clock,
very fagged, but hot tea soon set us both up again.

While at breakfast, I saw three men going along the
path up the valley ; they turned out to be Jadhs on their
way to Zarang, sent by Danam Panboh about his sheep.
This was not a good sign for my trip ; doubtless, word
had also been sent about my intention. I tried to keep my
arrangements as secret as possible, but Anparh was such
a coward, it was hardly likely he had held his tongue. On
the other hand, I flattered myself that I had made a good
impression on the Tibetans, and that my lucky interference
in their favour, when the Garhwalis were carrying them
off, would ensure some grateful return on their part.
Shortly after the three Tibetans went up, eleven more
came down the valley. The three men who had escaped
from the Garhwalis got back to their village in three days,
and this party of eleven had at once started in pursuit.
They were a wild and very dirty lot ; two of them were
only boys, and three of them Lamas. These latter had
their hair cut very short, and all three were clothed in
very dirty red chogas (long coats).

282 THE UPPER BASPA

The Garh walls with their plunder were stopped opposite
Suancho. The coolie I sent down to Chitkiil met my men
coming up with the things I had left In the village near
Dwareah, and the porters left my traps on the road, crossed
the snow-bridge, and met the plunderers. They remained
there all night, and next morning came on to the Barasii
valley. Here the Garhwalis refused to go down farther
or to cross the Baspa. They were, however, detained with
the sheep, while all the valley assembled to decide the
dispute. The Garhwalis stoutly held their own, though
they were starving, and appeared a masterful set of fellows,
showing much more spirit than either Kanawarls or
Tibetans in this affair, though they were manifestly in
the wrou" The former were in mortal dread of them,
and would not oppose them openly, though anxious to
help their friends the Jtidhs. The Kanawarls are in a
miserable position owing to their situation between two
disputants, their trade — in fact, their existence — as I
have said before, depending on both.

CHAPTER XIX

FIRST STErS IN TIBET

Danam Paiiboli recovers his sheep — A young Tibetan — His intelligence
more ajiparent than his moustache — Tibetan officials — Anparli is un-
willing to make a start — Makes up his mind at last — Arsamang camp —
The way up — A scene of desolation — Rampant moraines mounting on
each otlu'r — First view of Gugerang Pass — Reach the crest — And enter
Tibet — A Balti coolie falls ill — Too much " pultas" the cause — A new
dish — Fraternal devotion — Pechang — The Baltis meet an old friend —
Are greatly comforted — Ascend a side valley — Xo game seen — Unique
scenery on the road — A disrupted mountain — Stunted trees appear — ■
Rand — Naniitatto — Green fields appear — Yellow furze.

The party of Tibetans who went down with their sheep
some days ago, and who passed my camp when I was at
Siiancho, came in on their return journey, and informed
me that the Panboh had got his sheep back from the Garh-
Wiilis, and that he was going on to Sangla to trade. The
affair was settled by compromise, both parties getting their
sheep. I entertained these Jadhs at four-o'clock tea. The
youth mentioned before was by far the most intelligent of
the lot, and his free-and-easy bearing on the present
occasion was pleasant to see. After tea I presented him
with a pair of scissors ; he at once got hold of a news-
paper and cut out a pretty ornamental pattern, which he
placed against the breast of his coat and admired vtry
much. I then gave him a small looking-glass, and he at
once put it before his face, and, with his finger on his

283

284 FIRST STEPS IN TIBET

upper lip, began an anxious scrutiny of an incipient
moustache. These men refused to take me to Zarang, as
it was forbidden, but said the Panboh was the responsible
man, and could do what he liked. The ofticial over him
was the Chaprang-Zong (Chaprang, governor), and over the
latter a very great man called the Garh-pung, about whom
they had very hazy ideas indeed, like ignorant villagers
all the world over. I visited them in their camp in the
evening. Their sheep seemed semi-wild animals, and
difficult to manage. There was snow again at night, a very
heavy fall that lasted for two hours, but the morning was
bright and warm. Two men arrived in the evening from
Diinam Panbuh, with a message to say I was not to go on
without Anparh, and that he himself would come if he
could arrange his business soon. He had also given strict
orders to all the Jadhs going up that my advent was on no
account to be made known to the Chaprang-Zong. The
two Jadhs were to remain with me until Anparh arrived.
The Jadhs with the sheep went on this morning, leaving
a sick one behind, which the Chitki'il coolies ate.

Anparh turned up at last, but he was very loth to go,
having no doubt been talked over or frightened by
Danam Panboh, for whom he wished to wait. I also
discovered that the message brought by the two Jadhs
was misdelivered or misunderstood. Their instructions
were that I was on no account to go on until the Panboh
arrived, and if I persisted, the messengers were to precede
me and send word to the Chaprang-Zong ! Anparh, no
doubt, had betrayed my plans ; under any circumstances,
concealment was hardly possible after meeting so many
Tibetans. My determination was, however, fixed, and I
kept Anparh to his promise. As soon as the messengers
saw me preparing to move, they started on ahead to give
notice. Chaprang is forty-five miles at least from Zarang,

ANPARH IS UNWILLING TO START 285

so the official at the former place would not be able to

organise any opposition for some days at least ; and I

should put in a week's shooting across the pass in the

interval. They seemed most anxious that I should not

enter any village. Both Anparh and the Panbuh said

they should come to frightful grief if I forced my way in.

I had no intention of doing that, but intended to go as

far as I fairly could, and started with ten loads and fifteen

days' provisions. Anparh was very much alarmed,

imagining that I was going to force my way to Zarang ;

and though I repeatedly told him I would remain on the

other side of the pass and shoot until the Panbuh arrived,

when I should abide by the latter's decision, I had great

difficulty in getting him to advance beyond Mthal.

As far as Nithal, the valley is open, wide, and level as

below. At that point two valleys from above meet ; the

left is the one up to the Giigerang Pass, my road.

Immediately after leaving Mthal this valley contracts,

becoming very rough, broken, and winding, blocked with

fallen rocks and masses of snow ; the path is on the left

bank of the stream, some distance up the hillside. So

shut in is the valley, that steep hill-slopes are all that can

be seen. Arsamang, the camping-place, is a small fiat

with two stone enclosures, where the shepherds stop on

their way up and down. Anparh found on the path a

dead sheep, which he brought in to eat. Arsamang is a

miserable place for a camp ; there is not room even for a

small tent ; water is obtainable some distance down, but

no fuel. On the way up I had to bully a Chitkul coolie

with a stick, as he threatened to throw down his load and

return. The Balti men, as usual, behaved well.

The night was pleasanter than at Di'mti ; though this
camp is much higher, it is more confined, and there was
no wind — though it blew strong and cold till dusk, when

286 FIRST STEPS IN TIBET

everything was hushed, and the silent darkness felt
oppressive. The path next day led us over tremendous
moraines, that seerned to have jammed together on their
meeting from all points of the compass. In the Nagdim
valley, farther on, we toiled up another enormous moraine,
and descended into a level valley down its almost perpen-
dicular side, covered with treacherous snow. Several of
the coolies slid down, load and all ; one lost his balance,
and had a bad fall : then we came to a level valley, sloppy
and boggy from recently melted snow. There was not a dry
inch of ground — and this was the halting-place for break-
fast. More hard walking brought us to a great amphi-
theatre of snow, encircled with jagged peaks, and in the
centre of the very broken sky-line the Gugerang l^ass was
pointed out — a slight depression flanked by two castle-
like crags. An immense field of snow stretched away to
the south, surrounded by lofty snowy mountains ; the scene
was desolate, but very grand. We went up along the snow till
we came to the foot of the pass, and thence had a very stiff
but short ascent to the crags above — a hundred yards
more, and we passed between jagged rocks into Tibet,
with a roaring wind at our backs. It was terribly sharp
and cutting, and it made me literally run before it till I got
under the turn of a hillside. We saw three dead sheep
on this descent. When we reached Pechang camp, which
we did at 5.30, one coolie was thoroughly done up, and
gave in ; they had been very severely tried. Pechang is
a cold place : no wood, bare rocks, water, and snow, and an
awful wind for ever blowing. The coolie who gave out
coming up the pass was a Balti, who had been complaining
of pains in his interior. I discovered in the evening that,
owing to the scarcity of fuel at Arsamang, the Balti coolies
could not cook their food ; so they mixed the flour with
water, making a mass of dough. Then the party sat round.

FRATERNAL DEVOTION 287

and each taking a handful of the dough, dipped it in ghi
before swallowing it. It took several doses of chlorodyne
to give the sick man relief. The exhilarating dish
described is called " pultas," otherwise ijoulticc. The
Baltis have slightly changed the word, and therewith its
meaning. The word must have been picked up in the
hill stations, where these men go to earn a living as
navvies. The man who was taken ill had a brother in
our party, and he showed right brotherly affection. After
carrying his own load up a bit, he would go back and
carry up his brother's. He did this for about two miles
of the worst part of the journey just below the pass.

We left Pechang at half-past six, and went steadily down
the valley till ten, when we came to a side valley leading
down to the villages of Kiinnii and Charang. We saw
six wild sheep up this valley and halted for a stalk, but
they turned out to be all ewes. Anparh was very anxious
that I should return this way, without going farther down
towards Zarang. I humoured him, and halted for a day.
There was much less snow on this side. The hills are
rounded towards their bases, the tops are jagged and naked
peaks, and no vegetation whatever is visible. There was,
however, a little grass lower down, and large patches of the
prickly Tibetan furze with yellow flowers. There was
another yellow flower on a small plant that comes up
in a bunch, not very high, with separate stalks and green
leaves, rather common in some places. When the Balti
coolies saw these, they were greatly excited, evidently
recognising a flower of their native land. Each plucked
a quantity, presented some to me, and stuck the rest in
their caps. They were wonderfully brightened up by
meeting this old acquaintance. The last year's dead
bushes furnished the only fuel ; fortunately, though a
strong wind was blowing down the valley, it was not cold.

288 FIRST STEPS IN TIBET

Yakub was laid up from the effects of the previous day's
hard work.

I made an excursion to the side valley on the left — the
way by which Anparh wished me to return. The mouth
of the valley is very narrow and steep, a sheep-path ascends
the hillside along rocks and crumbling ground — a hard pull
up. Then the path enters suddenly on a level plain, and
the features of the valley entirely change. A sloping plain,
covered with yellow furze, comes down to the stream, which
runs in a deep bed. Barren rocky hills, ending in fantastic
ridges, bound the plain. In the left front a long level
valley, with a stream running down the centre, curves down
from the Gugerang direction. From the right front another
smaller valley comes down, with bare and gently-sloping sides.
Above these is the snow-capped ridge which divides India
and Tibet. Though the ground, as far as the eye could
reach, in every direction was splendid for wild sheep, I
did not see a single animal. Their tracks were visible all
over the hillsides, and the game had certainly been here
within the last three days, so perhaps a leopard had cleared
them out.

We left next day, as there was no temptation to prolong
our stay, and came down the valley by the path which runs
along the hillside, above the stream, for about a mile, then
comes down and crosses over to the right bank. The current
was strong, and up to the coolies' thighs in the centre.
The path follows the right bank, and then brings one
suddenly upon the most extraordinary sight I saw on this
trip. The hillside on the right bank has slipped down
bodily, and gone right across to the left bank in an
enormous mass of rock. The slide is at a considerable
angle, but the stream has worked its way out by the left
bank at the foot of the slip, and makes a fine cascade,
shooting out towards the right bank, and falling into a

A DISRUPTED MOUNTAIN 289

pool below. An enormous archway has been formed under
the fallen mass, by the rock crumbling away and falling
into the stream. This opening partly spans the right
bank and partly the stream, but diagonally, so that the
waterfall, when you look through the archway, seemed to
be rushing at you as it turned the foot of the landslip at
an acute angle. The effect was very strange. Fifty yards
farther on, another mass of rock had slipped to the edge of
the stream, and stopped there at a very sharp angle. The
shape of this mass was exactly like the flintlock of an old
musket ; the cairn at the top had been placed there, no
doubt, by the Tibetans, who have a great habit of piling
up stones on any conspicuous spot. It is considered a
praiseworthy act to raise these landmarks, and, in fact, they
are necessary in such a country to indicate the way. For
the same purpose little heaps of rocks were piled up all
over the landslip. These collections of stones will be
found on every remarkable spot that catches the eye. A
little farther down large boulders and masses of rocks have
fallen into the stream. For more than a mile the mountain
seems to have made a wholesale movement downwards, and
the valley, for that distance, is entirely blocked with the
ruins. Probably this was the result of an earthquake, but
no such disruptions are seen on the opposite side of the
valley, where one vast precipice falls sheer to the water's
edge. After this disrupted bit of country is passed, the
valley opens out, and the stream again flows in a level bed.
The range on either side is barren and forbidding, black
and rugged on the left, receding and crumbling on the
right. The path goes along the debris for two or three
miles, the valley gradually opening out at the same time.
At 10.30 we reached Eana camp, where a considerable
stream joins the main river. It is almost equal in volume
to the latter, and this side valley, therefore, must be of
19

290 FIRST STEPS IN TIBET

considerable length. The main valley, at this point, is
level, and about two hundred yards broad, but stony.
There were a few bushes and stunted cypresses on the left
range ; these were the first trees I had seen since I left
the birches at Siiancho. It was much warmer down here,
too; the temperature at 3 p.m. was 54°. No signs of
human habitation, fixed or temporary, were anywhere
visible, and no one appeared from either direction.
Drizzling rain fell nearly all the evening. A coolie, with
the post, turned up after dark — a most welcome arrival.

While it rained below, heavy snow fell on the ranges
above, especially towards the passes. I sent three coolies
back to Diinti to bring flour and rice, not wishing to run
short of supplies here. The bad weather continued all
day, so I occupied myself in diligently reading stale
newspapers.

Anparh confessed, one fine morning, that it was no use
breaking my heart in climbing these hills after imaginary
rams. There were none, but some could be had lower
down, at a place called Nanutatto. I took him at his
word, and broke camp at once, reaching the place at noon.
After the first hour's march we came to a considerable
stream, which flows into the main valley from the left.
We had to cross the main stream above Naniitatto, and
followed a path below enormous precipices, whose feet are
washed by the water, leaving little room for traffic. After
this we ascended till we came suddenly to some fields of
barley — the first cultivation. The valley is more open
here, and the hills undulating, and receding from the now
narrow stream. There were several patches of cultivation
on both sides of the valley, but they were not in a very
flourishing condition, and had no one, apparently, to look
after them. The hills looked promising, the slopes being
covered with grass, and yellow furze abounded; above

YELLOW FURZE 291

these, and not far distant, are crags and precipices. As I
came lower down to Nanutatto, wild rose bushes were
numerous, and some very pretty wild flowers that were
new to me, but no trees. The furze grew stronger and
lustier the lower I went down. Where the sun strikes
down with unusual warmth, and the spot is sheltered, the
bushes of it are very large and dense, and the blossoms
more plentiful and vigorous, giving a warm glow to the
otherwise bare hillside.

It was strange that no one had yet come from below to
look after us, especially as the Panboh had sent intimation
of our coming : perhaps the Chaprang-Zong's had not yet
had time to reach Tiincjo.

CHAPTER XX

AMONG THE TIBETANS

Camp (liacovered by two old women— First Tibetans arrive — Marriage
customs — The real Panboli of Zarang — He stands on his dignity —
Tibetan manners — A Tibetan game described — Tibetan ponies — Her
Majesty's silver countenance changes the aspect of affairs — Anparh's
dilemma — The agreement ratified — The return visit — I hold an exhibi-
tion— The Panboh and the penknife — Tea and biscuits — Tibetan mode
of expressing satisfaction — Napier Johnstone — Tandup — His classical
oblation — Primitive way of cleaning a dish — The Panbuli polishes his
fangs — Tibetan humour — Preparing for a feast — Buy some curiosities — ■
A welcome present from Mrs. Chering — Tibetan gratitude — The feast —
The Panboh and his followers depart — True version of the Garhwali
episode — Chinese exclusiveness — Lamas of Tangi interview me — A
present of three articles — A regular passport system — How trade is
carried on.

Next morning, on my return from a walk, I found several
Tibetans in camp : they had come from the village, and it
transpired that early in the morning two old women came
from Tango, which lies just on the other side of the next
slope, and, horrified to find their fields occupied by my
camp, rushed back and gave the alarm. Among the men
who had now come was the elder brother of the young
man to whom I had given the scissors and looking-glass.
He had gone on a visit to his wife, and had most likely
taken her these valuable presents. In this country the
custom, so Anparh informed me, is for the wife to always
live in her father's house, where the husband visits her

292

THE REAL PANBOH 293

periodically, but never brings her home. He takes all the
sons, the mother keeps all the daughters. All the work
and labour performed by the wife is for the benefit of
her father, not that of her husband. No wedding
ceremony takes place: young people meet at the fairs
which are frequently held, and arrange their own
marriages. After this preliminary, the young man begins
his visits to the young woman as above. I don't think
Anparh had the imagination necessary to invent such a
singular custom for my special amusement, so perhaps
what he said was true. Late in the evening arrived the
real Panboh from Zarang. The man I rescued from the
Garhwalis, it now appeared, was only his younger brother.
The genuine Panboh, who was an old man, sent word that
he was too tired to see me that evening, and put off his
visit till next day. The truth was, he had been indulging
too much in chhang (Tibetan beer) on his way from the
village, and did not feel equal to high diplomacy in con-
sequence. Several other men arrived after him, all
mounted on stout little ponies, mostly greys. I was told
that all the swells of the six villages under the Panbuh
were to assemble here and hold a parliament over the
stranger who had entered their borders: the president
would be the Panbuh. I arranged through Anparh to
bribe him, as well as other influential members; and
promised a feast and chhang at Tango after everything
had been settled in my favour. All I wanted was to get
back Ijy the Sangyukh-la to Ni'lang, the frontier village,
and, if possible, to get a view of a real Tibetan village.
Everybody appeared to be in high good-humour, and
the Jadhs were singing at the top of their voices.

The Panboh continued to make excuses, and these
culminated at last in his refusal to visit me at all. He
said, in the first place, that he could not allow me to go

294 AMONG THE TIBETANS

an inch farther towards Tango, and that I must return
the way I came. If I had anything to say to him, I must
come and see him. The old gentleman was standing on
his dignity. Anparh was our go-between, and seemed
very despondent. My curiosity was far too strong for my
dignity to be a stumbling-block, so I expressed my anxiety
to visit the Panboh and his companions behind the huge
boulder, on the sheltered side of which he had taken up
his quarters ; but there was no use going till all the men
who were expected had arrived, and they came dropping
in till late in the evening, and then more were expected.
The Panboh could give no definite reply till all the
influential men had held this important meeting, and I
had been fully discussed ; so I had to put off my visit till
Anparh could tell me that all was ready. In the mean-
time I had my breakfast and the Tibetans their tea, which
they were constantly brewing in copper degchis (cooking
vessels) of Indian manufacture, as fresh arrivals appeared.
At eleven o'clock Anparh announced that the time for
my visit had arrived, and I walked over to the Panbuh's
airy residence, nut a hundred yards from my tent.

I found him seated with his back to the rock, and the
usual three stones, with a fire in front of him for brewing
tea. He looked very dignified and solemn, and invited
me to be seated. Tabra Panboh was a man of fifty or
more years of age, decidedly Chinese in feature, of fair
complexion, with hazel eyes, as far as I could make out,
for they were very bleary, and the lids and surrounding
skin very much puckered. He wore a Chinese felt liat
and the Tibetan costume, and was smoking a hukka with
a brass chilam (bowl). His companions sat round about
him. There was very little of the Chinese about them : a
wilder-looking, uglier, and dirtier lot of men I never saw.
Every type of ugliness was represented among them, and

DECISION GIVEN AGAINST ME 295

not one in any respect resembled another. This is a most
noticeable feature among these people ; there seems to be
no racial type. The difference also between the common
herd and the head-man and his connections was very
marked ; the latter seem to belong to a foreign and distinct
stock, Chinese-like. There was only one thing in common
between them — their terribly bad teeth: they had not
among them a set of teeth that could be looked at without
disgust, and the Tanboh, I think, had the worst. His two
eye-teeth stuck out beyond his lips like canine fangs.
His younger brother and the son of the Tangi head-man
were decidedly Chinese in feature, and they were the only
decent-looking men in the assembly. After a long palaver
and much wrangling, no decision could be arrived at ; but
all said they did not know of any road leading to Nilang,
and that I could not go that way ; that I must return
the way I had come. I could not be allowed to visit
any village. The orders against foreigners entering
the country were very strict, and if I persisted in going
farther, their heads would be cut off; and so on. The
final reply, after much chattering, was that all had not
assembled yet, and no definite answer could therefore be
given. A fresh party arrived while I was there, and the
head of it dismounted some distance off and came up to
the assembly, leading his pony. When he caught the
Panbuh's eye, he doffed his Chinese felt hat in quite a
graceful fashion^ just in the European style, and the
rrreetino-s also very much resembled our own. By the bye,
these Tibetans have one very English habit indeed — that
of whistling. Riding or walking along the road, they
whistle ; when engaged in any work by himself, the Jadh
whistles; and the little boy, sitting on a rock watching
the ponies grazing, is sure to be whistling.

As the business was for the time over, four of the

296 AMONG THE TIBETANS

party got up for a game, the name of which I heard, but
which was unpronounceable by English lips. The younger
brother of the Panboh got it up. One hundred and eight
pebbles (the sacred Tibetan number) were collected, and
each of the four players provided himself with nine small
pieces of stick, each one of a different recognisable pattern ;
the stakes were four annas from each player. Two brass
dice, dotted in the usual way, excepting that one side was
crossed from angle to angle by two lines, and the iron tea-
ladle, were produced. A cloth was spread on the ground,
the players sat round, and the pebbles were placed in a
circle between them. The sticks of each player were
passed through the pebbles according to the pips turned
up on the dice. The great object seemed to be to pass
one's sticks through the stones as soon as possible,
throwing out those of other players that were passed
over. The man who puts all his sticks through all the
pebbles first, wins the stakes. The game took a long time,
and gave rise to much excitement and noise ; each player
rubbed the dice with energy on the spread cloth, on the
side of his boots, on the back of a Lama, or with a pinch
of dust " for luck," accompanying the action, which was
energetic and prolonged, with various gestures and the
words, " riri, riri, luri, luri." The dice got well polished,
and I should say would soon be worn out if many games
were played. After seeing the first game through, I left
and had a look at the ponies. They were small, well-
formed, compact animals, with fine heads and broad chests ;
they could not have been over twelve hands high, but
there could be no doubt of their strength and steadiness,
for they carried their riders, who were big men, with ease.
I returned to the tent much discouraged by the result
of my interview, making up my mind that I must return
the way I had come. Anparh came and said the final

ANPARH'S DILEMMA 297

decision was that I could not be allowed to go any farther.
I was in despair, and sent Yakiib and Anparh back for a
last effort, the former with some rupees in his pocket.
This last move had the desired effect. After a time they
returned and said the Panboh and his friends were willing
to let me go to Nilang by the Sangyukh-la, provided I
made a short d(^tour so as to avoid villages, and also
provided that a consideration was forthcoming. I went
off to the assembly at once with Anparh and Yakiib, and
it was at length arranged that Anparh should go bail for me,
and give a written agreement that I should not enter the
villages. The noise and talk and squabbling over this
business was indescribable. Anparh cut a most wretched
figure; his very small modicum of courage gave way
entirely. He had little confidence in me, and no doubt
thought that as soon as he was bound down by the agree-
ment, and in the hands of the Tibetans, I would sacrifice
him to my own wishes. I never met before such a
chicken-hearted individual for a highlander. At length
we got him to the sticking-point, and Yakub dribbled out
the rupees : first he put five into the hands of the Panbuh,
who looked disappointed ; then five more, and so on, the
Panboh's face expanding in smiles as each dose was ad-
ministered, till the magnificent sum of twenty rupees was
reached. At this point it became evident that the man's
face could expand no more, and the dole ceased. The
next business was Anparh's oath and written agreement.
But it now appeared that Anparh could not write. The
difficulty was got over in this way — no doubt another
Tibetan custom : Anparh took up a small stone, round
which he wrapped some white woollen string. This implied
that if the agreement made was infringed, Anparh would
have to pay that weight in gold. This solemnity was
ratified by the attachment of my seal to the woollen string,

298 AMONG THE TIBETANS

the Panboh producing a cake of sealing-wax from the
depths of his waistbelt for the purpose.

The negotiations having been satisfactorily concluded, I
made over to the Panboh ten rupees to cover the expense
of the promised feast. He transferred the money at once
to Anparh's two Chitkiil coolies and two of his own men,
who instantly started for Tango to bring the sheep and
the chhang, and I returned to my tent happy. The Panboh
and his companions soon after followed to pay the return
visit. A blanket was spread in his honour, and I sat on a
stone, the rest round three stones, the sine qua non in
Tibetan social functions. We were closely packed. One
old man pressed my left elbow close to my side, and another
ancient did the same on my right. The biggest cooking
vessel in the camp was soon on the fire for the usual
brew, which, this time, was the best Kangra valley orange
pekoe procurable. A handful of tea was put into the
cold water and allowed to boil, while pinches of dry tea
were served round to each man — smelt, tasted, and approved,
then carefully tied up in knots and stowed away. While
the tea was cooking we held a show. I first brought out
the binoculars, through which a flock of barhal high up on
the opposite hillside was viewed with exclamations of
astonishment and delight. The glasses passed round down
to the smallest boy, whose head hardly came up to my
waist. He was the ugliest but merriest and most free-and-
easy urchin I ever met. His shrieks of delight and his
grin, after he had got the focus, were most gratifying.
But this excitement soon palled, and inquiries were made
for " the long thing." Someone had seen the telescope
used in the morning. The Steward's " Viceroy " was then
brought out and placed in position on a boulder by the
fire. After the peep-show with this, my watch went
round, and everyone earnestly repeated " tik-tik-tik " for

THE PANBOH AND THE PENKNIFE 299

the next five minutes. The sight of the works behind,
when the case was opened, struck them dumb. It was
impossible to explain the use of the watch. An attempt
was made for the Panboh's benefit, but given up in
despair. Anparh's linguistic qualifications as interpreter
were not equal to the task, and I must confess neither
were mine. I then produced my pocket-knife, the usual
thumb-nail-splitting instrument with all the complications
complete, and an electro - plated handle. It was not
necessary to explain the uses of this to the Panbuh : his
grave stare of admiration told its own tale. The uses of
all the various instruments in the knife were explained to
him, and, by way of practical illustration, I made Yakub
unscrew and screw in again one of the screws in the sole
of my boot — an operation which threw the company into
ecstasies, and roused in even the stolid Panbuh an agitation
which he vainly strove to suppress. The knife had to be
placed in his hand for an examination, which took several
minutes. He returned it with longing eyes, and at lengtli
asked Anparh how much I would take for it ! My answer
was prompt — permission to visit the villages and country
below ! That was too big a price : the Panbuh shook his
head and sighed.

Tea was now ready. A plateful of sugar and a spoon
were placed before the Panboh, and out came the wooden
cups. Sugared tea went round several times, and was
approved. A few Huntley and Palmer's biscuits were
then handed to the l'anb(')h iu a i)late: he looked askance
at them at first, but was persuaded to taste one ; he put
a bit in his tea, tasted, and approved, lie called them
" farfari." He then broke off tiny bits, and each man re-
ceived a piece about half the size of my little finger-nail.
It is quite remarkable the equality that obtains among
these people : the Panboh was treated as an equal by all,

300 AMONG THE TIBETANS

and he treated them in the same way. They seemed to
have everything in common, shared everything equally,
and must have very hazy ideas of meum and tuum, though
honest and aboveboard as the day. Is this natural
socialism ? After tea and biscuit the Panboh showed his
satisfaction by holding up his thumb and saying I was a
jolly good fellow. This is the Tibetan mode of returning
thanks. Each one held up his thumb in the same way,
with the fist closed, and repeated the same words. Now
the whisky came round. It had to be explained first to
the Panboh that it was the same as his chhang, made from
barley. He took a few drops in the palm of his hand
and tasted it. Approval stole over his face ; and a few
drops went round in the usual way in the palm of each
man's hand. Smacking of lips, wry faces, and grunts of
satisfaction resulted. It was evidently too strong neat,
and water was called for. Then a little whisky
and water went round in the cups again, with universal
approval. This, I will make bold to say, was the first
time that " Napier Johnstone " was drunk by highlanders
of this ilk ; but the smacks, eye-twinklings, and coughs
bore strong resemblance to the symptoms noticeable
under similar circumstances in the far - off land of the
grateful liquor's birth. As a special honour, I mixed a
glassful in my own silver travelling-cup, and handed it to
the Panboh for his particular delectation ; but the same
thing happened — he took a sip and passed my silver cup
round to each man present as before ! It was drained
when it came back to the Panboh, wlio politely lianded it
over his shoulder, to my servant, and told him to have
it cleaned. The spirits warmed their hearts, and I had
again the emphatic verdict of their thumbs. Tandup,
my appointed guide, was not present when the whisky
went round : he was called, and his share given him,

A CLASSICAL OBLATION 301

shortly afterwards. He was a strapping young man, manly
in bearing, with a heavy tread and swaggering gait in his
long Chinese boots. He was the eldest son of the Tangi
head-man, and brother of the young fellow I took such a
liking to at Di'mti. He drank his glass very gracefully :
sitting on his knees, he held the cup in his left hand,
muttered a prayer, threw some drops over his right
shoulder, then over his left, said a few words more, turned
to his right, and poured a few drops on the ground, faced
to his front, and drained the cup. This performance took
him a minute or more. Some of the old fellows, after
finishing their cups, licked them clean. The last ceremony
was the presentation of a penknife, pair of scissors, and a
small looking-glass (total value about a rupee) to the
Panboh. This completed this business. The first use he
made of the mirror was to examine his teeth — what he had
of them. Seeing that the two projecting fangs were not
over-clean, he polished them up with the cuffs of his coat.
It was explained to him that the glass and scissors were
for Mrs. Panboh. He grinned. On the handle of the
penknife were the portraits of two royal personages ; this
was explained to the Panboh, whereupon a coarse fellow
on his right exclaimed, " Beware how you take another
lady home ; Mrs. P. will make you feel unhappy ! " These
people were very jocular and humorous, and had not a
serious thought among them as far as I could see. Shortly
after, the meeting broke up, and the Panboh strolled
back to his rock. Let me record his name here; it is
Tsamdabi-ya. He was for fourteen years Chaprang-Zong,
that is, Governor of Chaprang, a fort on the Sutlej about
forty-five miles from his village. He was now in charge
of these six villages and all the passes between Shipki
frontier village, on the Sutlej, and Nilang. His salary was
the revenue of the Tangi village.

302 AMONG THE TIBETANS

The materials for the feast arrived in the morning — a
sheep, rice, and chhang in the rough ; there was none
ready in the village. So a quantity of rice, cooked and
fermented, was brought in a bag, and put into large copper
vessels. After Tandiip had finished his breakfast, he sat
down and began to strain the rice through a sieve by
rubbing and squeezing it with his hands — a process which
took some time, as there was a lot of rice. Anparh struck
off the head of the old ram, and the blood was collected to
the last drop in a vessel to be boiled. The Tibetans have
a great horror of bloodshed — it is a part of their religion ;
and they prefer that some one else should kill their
mutton. Their method is most cruel when they are
obliged to slaughter an animal. They tie up the nose and
mouth, and then let the poor beast rush about in the
asouies of suffocation until death relieves it.

All the rubbish in the village was brought me for sale.
I bought a Tibetan coat, bags, waistbands, etc., as curiosities.
Two circumstances occurred during the day which pleased
me much. Just before breakfast, the Buddhist priest of
the village, a decent-looking old man, with a small boy
behind him carrying a long wooden vessel full of milk,
arrived with a message from Tandi'ip Chering's wife, to the
effect that the milk was a present in return for my
kindness in rescuing her husband from the Garhwalis.
The little boy, not much above my knee, was their son,
and he had brought the milk on his back all the way up
the hill, at his mother's bidding. It was deliciously fresh,
and nothing could have been better timed for my breakfast.
I sent the lady a small looking-glass and pair of scissors
by the hands of her son, as a token of gratitude. After
breakfast, a young man came with a large ball of fresh
butter put up in a clean cloth bag, with another message
to the same effect. He had been sent by his mother with

THE FEAST 303

this present, for the kindness shown to his father (another
of the same party) in trouble. These little attentions
were very gratifying, and showed the simple villagers in a
very agreeable light indeed.

The Panb(5h and his followers had their feast, and
drinking and singing were carried on till the sun dis-
appeared behind the hills. Most of the men then
departed happy, but steady. Chhang, in fact, is very
weak stuff, and an enormous quantity must be imbibed
before anything like intoxication supervenes. Tibetans
have an unfathomable capacity for it, and can generally
achieve drunkenness when the supply is unlimited. The
Panboh gave me a final warning before he started, — that
if I attempted to go by any other route but the one
agreed upon, there would be trouble. The true story of
the Garhwalis' adventure was told me by the Panboh. It
was their intention to force their way into the interior of
Tibet — not merely to the villages of Zarang, etc. — and deal
direct with the traders of that part of the country. This
was a very bold adventure indeed, and indicates a spirit
like an Englishman's. But even these men, well known
to the Tibetans as they were, could not manage to get
much beyond the frontier, and were very roughly used
indeed ; they were detained just as strangers would have
been, and, when they resisted, their property was seized
and they were turned adrift. This action of the Tibetans
seemed to prove that the regulation for the exclusion of
foreigners is not especially directed against us, but is a
part of the general policy of China. That it is not a
Tibetan custom I am convinced. These people have often
assured me that they would most willingly allow us entry
if it rested with them. If the history of China's connection
with Tibet is searched, it will be found that this exclusive-
ness is maintained by express orders from the Government

304 AMONG THE TIBETANS

of China, and that the Tibetans are simply obeying their
masters. The odium, therefore, should rest on the
Chinese, and not on the simple inhabitants of the country.
In the evening the Lamas of Tangi came with a present
of one four-anna bit and a small piece of open-work cloth
of China manufacture — said to be very precious and
sacred ; a lamb was also offered, but it had not yet arrived
from the village. A present of this kind — that is,
three things — is always made to great people. The Lamas
were anxious to explain that they had brought these
presents with no expectation of return, as they were only
priests, and had no concern with worldly things, etc. But,
at the same time, the present of five rupees that I put
into the hand of the principal was most willingly accepted.
The proper thing, I am told, to do with the flimsy rag (it
looks like a bit of linen) is to tie it round one's neck. I
did so, and put the coin in my pocket, for luck. There is
no Tibetan currency — apparently all the cash in circulation
comes from India. From what the Panboh told me, it
would seem that there is a regular passport system in
vogue all over Tibet — no doubt introduced by the Chinese.
He said the people of the country were forbidden to travel
without a written permit from the authorities, even within
their own borders : even traders had to get a pass. And
there was yet further restriction : there were fixed trade
routes and fixed markets, to which traders were limited.
For instance, the villagers under the Panboh were pro-
hibited from travelling into the interior of Tibet; they
could trade only with Kanawaris, and these latter could
not proceed beyond Zarang. In the same way, certain
traders from the interior were allowed to come to these
villages with their goods and exchange them for Indian
products, but are prohibited from going any farther.
Trade is by barter, pure and simple, and any cash trans-

TIBETAN OBEDIENCE 305

actions, except on the very smallest scale, are impossible.
The prohibition against strangers is so strict that even two
Khamba beggar women (true Tibetans and no mistake),
who were wandering about in camp, were not allowed
to proceed farther in the direction of India. This system
of restriction applies as much to Tibetans as to strangers
from across the borders. The people understand it
thoroughly well, and obey loyally. It is a liuhn (order).
The meaning of this Hindustani word, by the bye, was
well understood here ; and it was used with reference to
myself pretty often.

20

CHAPTER XXI

A MARCH IN TIBET

Start from Tdngi — A curious natural bridge — Tandup, my guide— After
rams again — A succession of blimders — A back view of the Himalayas —
A Tibetan landscape — Force of the wind— The infant Ganges — The
Sangyokh-la — Reach the regular trading route — Traces of barhal
numerous — Run into a Hock of rams — Make a large bag without any
trouble — Puling Sumdo — Tandup Zangbo — His manners and customs —
His companion — Dismiss my Tibetans — Tandup's wives — Presents for
tlieni — A good place for barhal-shooting — Rams about the camp — Meet
the people from Nilang — I meet Pare — Information regarding game —
First intimation of a wholesale murderer — Meet Bow Singh, the arch-
impostor — Arrange a shooting trip with him — Bow Singh claims two
nationalities— Meaning of the word " Jadh " — Bow Singh's temptation.

We started next day along the Tangi road, which we
followed for a mile, and then crossed over to the right
bank of the stream at a point where the water has cut a
way through solid slate rock, and where the channel is less
than ten feet wide. A huge rock from above had fallen
just over this canal-like passage, and formed a natural
bridge. The descent and ascent from this boulder bridge
are very steep, but mercifully short. We camped in a
level field on the right bank, having taken two hours to
cover not more than three miles. In the evening I walked
along the hillside, down stream, and, through my telescope,
examined the large and open valley in which the village
of Tangi is situated, for I was in hope of obtaining a distant
view, at least, of houses, but in this I was disappointed.

306

TANDUP, MY GUIDE 307

The valley is broad, open, and well cultivated. The village
could not have been a mile away, but it was hidden by a
spur of the hill. It was to avoid approaching this village
that I was being taken this roundabout way. Tandup
went to pay his friends a final visit before starting on this
journey ; he came back full of chhang, and hardly able to
walk, but in the highest spirits. He said he had to take
a sleep on the road, as he could not manage to get along.
His advent was heralded by shouts, songs, and whistling,
some time before he appeared in person. He was exceed-
ingly communicative, if one could only have understood
him. He and Yakiib became great friends, but, in the
absence of a common language, intercourse was limited.

The next march was up stream and up the hillside.
This roundabout way might have been avoided by coming
down from camp at Naniitatto, crossing the stream and
going straight up ; but Tibetans hate getting wet, and this
detour was made to take advantage of the aforesaid boulder
bridge. The ascent took us five hours — it was gradual,
but very trying. We halted on the ridge and had break-
fast, with melted snow for tea. Tandup was awfully done ;
he said he was hungry, but he breasted the hill like a
thorough highlander. After breakfast we went down the
ridge on the other side, and came to a stream which runs
into that which descends from the Giigerang Pass, opposite
Nanutatto. I had a stalk early in the morning after some
wild sheep, but they had the advantage, and got away.
Descending towards camp in the evening, I saw eight
splendid old rams grazing on the opposite slope : their
coats were of a slatey colour, and they had fine heads ; but
the country was so open that they soon saw us and were
quickly out of sight.

I followed them up next morning, and sighted five of
them high up in the valley on a stony hill, but they were

3o8 A MARCH IN TIBET

a long distance off, and, mistaking them for females, I took
no precautions, as they were not in the direction I was
going. As soon as the barhal saw me, they made straight
for the ridge, and only when they stood on the sky-line
I discovered they were all rams ! I was wild ! After
getting on to the open hillside, I saw two more animals,
and, examining them carefully with the telescope, made
them out to be rams. I went for them at once, and made
a most cautious stalk, but when I was within two hundred
yards, and looked over for a shot, I found I had been
stalking two ewes. Two such mistakes at the very
beginning of the day upset my equanimity, and it took
me some time to recover. I then turned back, and again
saw the five rams ; so, turning to the ravine up which I had
come, I had breakfast, and began my second stalk.

The rams were on a ledge of rocks, where approach from
my side was impossible ; but, shortly after, they left their
perch and came down to the grass to feed. As soon as
they were under cover, I slipped down and went up the
opposite side as fast as I could. Here I made another
mistake — my impatience spoiling everything. Instead of
waiting under cover of some rocks until the rams came
round the swell of the hill, I went on, very cautiously, to
meet them. I had not gone far along the hillside when
one of the barhal topped some rocks about two hundred
yards, saw me instantly, and vanished. I ran forward to
get a sight of him, and came face to face with another
ram, not forty yards off, who was grazing quietly along in
my direction. I saw his head only for a few seconds, and
he too vanished ; I never saw him again. Looking up hill
I saw three rams making off, and had a snap-shot at a
long range, and of course missed. This was a thoroughly
unlucky day for me. There had been snow in the night,
and when I began my tramp it was bitterly cold going up

■T DISCOVERED THF.Y WERE ALL IL\M,S.

BACK VIEW OF THE HIMALAYAS 309

the sunless ravine. My breath froze on my moustache,
and my fingers ached even in warm gloves.

I resumed my march at 6.30 next morning, and went
on up stream near its source. A gradual ascent brought
me to a level piece of ground, whence I obtained a splendid
view of the back of the snowy range — stretching from
north-west to south-east. From this point the Himalayas
do not look very imposing. There was a level plain below,
encircled by rounded hill-tops, and vegetation was very
scanty. The hillsides are covered with small broken rocks,
which, at a little distance, give a round and smooth appear-
ance to the landscape. It is the action of the weather,
I think, which wears everything smooth. The wind,
especially, has enormous force in these elevated regions,
and tears along crags, precipices, and rough points with a
noise like a mighty river over a rocky bed ; indeed, the
sound is so similar that I often mistook the rushing of
the wind above for the echo of the stream below. In the
course of ages the mountains have been rounded ofi", and
undulations and curves have become the characteristics of
the country ; the ceaseless action of the elements has this
effect upon the naked rocks. The force of the wind is
terrible in these high regions ; on an exposed ridge or
hill-top a man cannot resist the pressure for more than a
few minutes at a time. My theory may have no founda-
tion in fact, but it is at least plausible. A^egetation is
altogether wanting. The traveller in the midst of such
desolation cannot but speculate on the causes which have
produced it : there is nothing else to think of.

I came down to the stream at the level of the plain at
noon. The sparkling rivulet that was murmuring past
my tent door is one of those which are the true head
waters of the sacred Ganges. They are the sources of the
Bhiigirati river, that rushes past the village of Mlang, and

3IO A MARCH IN TIBET

is joined, lower down, by the small stream from Gangotri
— the sacred place of pilgrimage. The Bhagirati rises at
a higher elevation, has the longest course and the greatest
volume of the two, and has therefore more right to the
adoration of Hindus. The ridfre I crossed in the morn-
iug was divided between the Sutlej and the Ganges
water systems. I had therefore doubled Sangyokh-la,
with no idea I had so easily crossed over into India
(politically speaking) again — especially after the experi-
ences of the Gugerang Pass ! Geographically, however, I
was still in Tibet, and should not be in India proper till I
had passed Nilang. There must be a great gap in the grand
Himalayan rampart at this point, for there were no great
elevations in front of me. Nevertheless, camp Eangboche
must be ranher high; the Sangyokh is 16,800 feet, and I
was encamped only a few miles below it. In the evening
I went down stream for a long distance, but saw no animal
life of any kind. The valley was just redeemed from the
utter abomination of desolation by the sparkling stream
below, the heavenly blue above, and the glorious sunshine.
Eeturning to camp, I found many burrows of marmots
a short way from the stream ; but they all seemed to
be deserted. There were signs of some beast of prey
near the burrows — it was probably a Tibetan wolf who
had settled down here until he had cleared the poor
marmots out.

We started next day at 6.30 a.m. and went up the
mountain side for about a mile, when we came to the
regular road from Nilang, that crosses the Sangyokh-la
and goes on to Zarang, etc., in the direction of Shipki
frontier village ; this road is well defined, and much used
by beasts of burden. On the ridge by the roadside are
the usual heaps of stones with small flags of various
colours. A sharp descent led to the next valley; we

TRACES OF BARHAL NUMEROUS 311

reached the camping-place at the bottom at 11 a.m., and,
having had breakfast, started again. Travelling down
stream, I found many barhal horns along the path and at
all camping - places. One skull had a pair 25 inches
long and 12 in girth at the base ; the ram must have been
a magnificent beast. He must have come to grief during
the last breaking up of the snow, as the skull, which was
very heavy, looked fresh. At one camp there were six
pairs of horns collected in a heap. This valley is so close
and confined that it must be unusually sheltered during
the cold months and bad weather, and probably for this
reason barhal frequent it in large numbers. It would be
a good shooting ground in spring, before the animals had
dispersed, or in autumn, after they had congregated here.
At this season they are widely scattered, as grass can be
had everywhere, and the old rams are away high up about
the snow-line. Going farther down, I saw a dozen ewes,
with lambs, running up a ridge, and shortly after saw two
more run from the bed of the stream ; they had, no doubt,
been tempted down by the fresh green grass at the water's
edge. I declined to shoot any of these females, though the
men were importunate for meat, of which they had had none
for several days ; and, in fact, I myself had been living on
tinned beef for a long time. Were it not for the lambs
frisking up the steeps after their mothers, I am sure the
si"ht of the fresh meat would have been too much for my
scruples.

The coolies were on ahead, and I was some paces behind,
when they turned an angle in the valley, and came plump
on another llock grazing by the stream. There was shout-
ing and excitement, of course. I got a rifle and ran at
full speed to a large rock near the stream, which offered a
good rest. The barhal were meantime rushing up the
slope on the right with great clatter and dust. I did not

o

12 A MARCH IN TIBET

shoot, as they seemed all ewes ; but as soon as the flock
reached the sky-line, to my surprise the animals seemed
all rams ! I promptly opened fire at about 200 yards,
and the first shot brought down a splendid fellow hit
through the shoulder— he collapsed on the ridge ; the
second shot hit a small ram in the hind ribs, and he went
away to the right, very sick ; the third and fourth shots
were misses. All this firing did not seem to hurry the
animals much — they went slowly along the ridge, still
in sight. The fifth shot brought down another ram, the
distance being not less than 300 yards; the sixth missed,
and I ceased firing — three hits and three misses. I sent
coolies to bring down the game, but, fatal mistake ! a knife
was put into the hands of one of them for the halal.
Strict injunctions were given to cut the throats low down,
but in their excitement the Baltis gashed the necks from
ear to ear, thus ruining the heads for setting up. While
the coolies were bringing down the sheep, I asked Tandiip
how far we were from our camping-place — Puling Siimdo ;
he pointed to the ground we stood on, saying this was the
place ; so I had made this bag of three rams actually in
camp. Literally in camp, for the tent was pitched over
the tracks the flock made in their flight up the hillside.
Such is the luck of shikar. I had been breaking my heart
— and risking my neck — in the pursuit of rams for the
last month without bagging a single animal ; and here, at
a turn in the road, I shot down three. The horns of the
first ram were 23 inches round the curve, and 11| inches
girth at base. Second ram 17 inches by 11 inches. The
smallest ram was not recovered at the time. The third
one was hit just above the root of the tail as he was
climbing up, and never moved from the spot ; his spine
was smashed, and he must have died instantaneously.
I halted here, as Tandup and his companion objected to

TANDUP ZANGBO 313

going farther ; they had got us safely out of their country,
and took no more interest in us. Tandiip was the source
of considerable amusement to me during the time he was
my companion. He was extremely good-humoured, and
always in the most joyous spirits. With the help of one
of the Balti coolies — the most intelligent of the party —
I asked him one day what his surname was. After some
difficulty, he at last understood what I meant, and said it
was " Zangbo." It was not till some time afterwards I
learned that the word simply meant " good " ! He wished
it evidently to be understood that he was " Tandiip the
good." It fitted him very well ; in the morning he was
always the first astir, and, after putting on the tea to boil,
he would prepare an extempore altar made of stones, topped
with turf or grass, before which he would kneel and per-
form his devotions. His prayers were intoned in a low
voice and with great rapidity, and he read out of his little
prayer-book in the same manner. When this was done
and his tea finished, he would turn his hand to any work,
and, when the start was made, would lead the way singing,
playing on his black wooden pipe, or whistling. He always
carried in his hand his riding-whip, wnth which he tapped
his boots. When he was tired, or had to climb a steep,
he would sigh for his pony, flourish his whip, and yell out
the noises used for making that animal step out ; he
lamented the absence of his mount a dozen times a day.
On the march he amused himself driving the coolies along
like a flock of sheep with shouts and jokes and horse-play,
that kept them going. He belonged to the better class of
country people ; and, if he be taken as a sample of the
rest, I am sure the independent country population are
an amiable people, who deserve consideration from their
neighbours. Tandup Zangbo's intelligence, education, and
manners w^ere greatly in advance of those of the same

314 A MARCH IN TIBET

class among the Indian population. His companion be-
longed to a lower grade ; he was stupid, silent, morose^
and bore a melancholy air, as if some secret grief weighed
him down ; but he read and said his prayers in the same
fashion as his companion. I bought Tandup's shepherd's
musical pipe, and presented him with some tobacco and a
pipe to smoke it. Tandiip was a much-married young
man, and his wives were the subject of much conversation
between the young man and Yakub. They were constantly
in Tandup's mind, and my servant managed in course of
the journey to collect some information about them. There
were four, and their names were as follows : — ( 1 ) Sonam
of Biar village ; (2) Tashi of Zarang; (?>) Dolnia of Tangi ;
(4) Thaften of Chiise. They all lived at their parents'
homes, where Tandup visited them periodically : the villages
are only a few miles apart. Mrs. Thaften was the favourite,
and consequently the best presents were reserved for her.
These little things — scissors, needles, knives, etc. — com-
pletely won Tandiip's heart.

In the evening I took a walk up the valley joining the
main one on the left. I had not gone a hundred yards
from camp, round a bend, when I sighted a flock ; but I was
off my guard, and of course the animals saw me before I
saw them. They ran up the slope and stood among some
rocks within range ; I had one shot, a steady one, but
missed : this was aggravating, but I had only myself to
blame. I returned to camp late in the evening, after a
long trudge up the valley, having seen no rams after the
first misadventure ; but I saw ewes in several places. The
valleys about here are certainly good finds for wild sheep ;
they were close to the road just now, probably because the
people from below had not yet brought up their summer
encampments so far. The spring and autumn are certainly
the best seasons for a month's shooting in these hills ; but

RAMS ABOUT THE CAMP 315

the only game to be had is wild sheep. The joiiniL-y from
Mussoorie to Nilang would be an easy one. There are no
passes to cross, and there is a good made road to within
two marches of the latter place. The distance could be
done easily in thirteen stages by laden coolies, and by
double marches the shooting grounds could be easily
reached in a week : a fortnight for sport, and another
week for the return journey. So that within a month a
keen sportsman could come out from Mussoorie, make a
good bag of barhal in Tibet, and get back again. Or, if
he were not in a hurry, good sport could be had on the
return journey both with gun and rifle. This is worth
noting by the jaded revellers of that hill station who
are in need of a pick-me-up after the dissipations of the
season.

In the morning I went down the valley and turned up
the hillside on the right. I saw nothing but ewes ; but by
way of compensation had glorious views of snowy mountain
peaks in the direction of Nilang, the first I had seen after
some days. These peaks are probably Kamet and his
neighbours. The wind on the ridge above was terrible —
a good example of the Tibetan gale at its worst. Two
rams came down from the hill I went up, and walked
across quietly to the valley on the left, a few yards from
the tent, while I was toiling on the heights above ; and
shortly after a young ram and a ewe came down from the
same direction and grazed by the stream, not one hundred
yards from the tent, for more than an hour ; they then
quietly went up the side valley. Yet another example
of the vicissitudes of sport !

Going up the side valley after breakfast next day, I
saw three rams, but they saw us first — and that was the
end of that story. We went a long way up, but saw
nothing else, and came back to camp at six. Some traders

3i6 A MARCH IN TIBET

came up from Ni'lang that evening : one was the brother
of the jemadar (petty officer), for many years in the
service of a well-known European sportsman of the last
generation, who spent most of his life in these parts.
He was an old man, very friendly and communicative, and
unusually intelligent ; he had many stories about gentle-
men who had come here for sport. He said one of them
went up the valley which I explored to-day and brought
back five splendid rams in one day ; but he did not get
back to his camp till midnight.

Next day, at a camp on the Ni'lang road, I found Pare,
the old jemadar, himself. He also was going up with his
rice and sheep to trade at Ziirang and other villages. He
said he had shot a barhal across the stream from his camp
on this bank: four came down to drink. He had a very
nice single '500 Express, by J. Osborne, London — a present,
he said, from his old master. I am afraid a goodly number
of wild sheep have fallen to it since its crack was first
heard in these wilds. I bought rice and other supplies
from Pare. He gave me a man to show the ground, and
said that the left side of the valley was the best for game.
Pare gave me an awful account of a certain sahib who had
deliberately shot with his rifle a number of men and a
score of sheep ! The men were innocent pilgrims on their
way to Gangotri. He was secured after committing
this crime, and was now in chains in Tiri. Pare also
told me that a wild yak was found dead in the snow in
Gandokh four years ago, and that he bought the head for
ten rupees ; it was the only one he had ever seen or heard
of in these parts. If the reputation of the Baspa valley
had not led me astray, I could have made a good thing of
my three months' leave in this direction.

Next morning, soon after I started, I met two individuals
whose swagger struck me at sight. They were both

BOW SINGH 317

great swells : one wore a gorgeous gold-laced cap, and the
other a Chinese velvet hat. These were Bow Singh,
shikari, and his brother. I had heard of them, and they
of me, and this meeting on the roadside was not accidental.
After a short parley, Bow Singh accepted my invitation
to show me the best shooting grounds in the neighbourhood.
He had a double-barrelled Greener shot-gun (pin-fire), a
good old weapon, and his brother shouldered one of my
rifles. He was an oldish man, rather wheezy (from good
living and over-much chhang), but probably would be Al
after the wild sheep of his familiar mountain slopes. At
anyrate, he told plenty of stories of wonderful bags made
by gentlemen who had been fortunate enough to secure
his services. We halted at Goakh camp, and arranged
here with Bow Singh (or Boosing, the right pronunciation
of his name, and very appropriate too, from all appearances)
for supplies, and yaks to carry them.

Bow Singh claimed to be Tibetan, but said he had left
off wearing a pig-tail for several years ; that is, from the
time of the last Tiri Eajah's death, when every mother's son
in the province had his head shaved " by order," the token
of national mourning for the prince's demise. When he is
down in Garhwal he is a Pvajpiit, but up here he is a Jadh,
or Tibetan. I never got a satisfactory explanation of the
meaning of the word " Jiidh." Anparh said it was applied
to all " bad " people who ate beef. When I replied that
I must be a Jadh, he was rather nonplussed. Peoples
living on the frontier dividing two distinct nationalities
inevitably get mixed ; and from personal experience I
can say that it does not improve the breed : they are
always bi-lingual — also a double-tongued, deceiving lot.

My servant let the cat out of the bag, and produced a con-
siderable change in Bow Singh's tone of conversation when
he was brought round to Gandokh and the Ovis ammon

3i8 A MARCH IN TIBET

to be shot there. He said the leave of the Jadhs must
be obtained first, bakshish given, etc. It took some
time to overcome Bow Singh's scruples ; but he had set
his heart on a ■ red broadcloth choga embroidered with
yellow wool. I tempted him with this magnificent robe,
the materials of which I could obtain in Mussoorie, and
told him he should have it provided he took me to the
hunting grounds about which he had said so much.

CHAPTEE XXII

THE LAST HUNT

A bad beginning— A very awkward ascent— Beniglited— A good sleep and a
sqnare meal— An unsnccessful stalk— Massacre of the ewes— Twenty
rams in view— The stalk— Forebodings of failure— Bad weatlier— A
sporting ofRcial— New way of stalking wild sheep— The official and the
pig-tail— Traces of Tibetan game— Bow Singh plays me false— Return
to Puling Sumdo— Dismiss Bow Singh with a flea in his ear— A Tibetan
official appears at last— An Ovis ammon's head— Splendid trophy-
Return journey begun— Nilang— A good game country— An airy bridge
—The great pilgrim route to Gangotri— Jiingla bungalow— The story of
a murderous ' ' Sahib "—Bhattari— Journey ends.

At six o'clock we started to ascend the hillside to

Jaraphu, in our tracks of the day before ; had breakfast

there and went on again at two, having to negotiate a

tremendous ascent that took us three hours. Luckily we

were mounted; I had two small ponies and three yaks,

and all the up-hill work was done on these poor animals,

who had very hard work. The small pony that I had

hired from Bow Singh was a sturdy little beast, who carried

me well. My servant was astride a yak, the slowest

animal in existence, but the surest-footed. The other

animals carried the traps. The rotten snow on the steep

slope gave very insecure footing, and all the animals

lurched and slipped and slid, so that progress was painfully

slow. More than once the baggage animals fell, and luul

to be set on their legs again by hauling at their horns and

31»

320 THE LAST HUNT

tails. This was a very painful operation, but the poor
beasts bore it all very patiently. The ridge at last was
reached, but it was almost knife-edged, and so smothered
with snow as to be absolutely dangerous. So we had to
dismount and descend as best we could. We dipped into
a semicircular valley of moraines, round the bases of
which slushy and half-frozen streamlets flow, having
to walk through these, crossing a ridge here and there.
Lower down, the moraines became more jumbled and con-
fused, and walking over their broken surfaces was terrible
indeed to me, who had on thin " Bisahiri " shoes, which
were no protection against sharp-pointed rocks. We got
out of this awful ground just before darkness came on ;
but were obliged to proceed, as there was no camping-
place and no fuel procurable.

We stumbled along down the hillside by the light of
a clouded moon for two hours more, when we reached the
banks of the Chhii-Hanmo stream. My shoes had gone
to pieces, and I had been walking practically barefoot for
a couple of miles, till I felt as if my feet were cut to
shreds.

It must have been near midnight when we came to a
halt. I threw myself under a huge tree a few yards from
the water, too exhausted for any thought but one —
rest. The yak with the bedding came in some time
after, and I soon got between the blankets, but I was too
tired to sleep. To complete the chapter of accidents,
it came on to rain, and my bedding was soon soaked ; but
with the aid of a waterproof I managed to keep dry. I
was too exhausted to think of food; and it was just as well,
for most of the coolies lay up on the hillside above as
soon as they were left to their own devices, and the man
carrying the food, etc., never turned up at all. We had to
send out to look for him, and he was brought down some

AN UNSUCCESSFUL STALK 321

hours after sunrise. This was quite the worst experience
I had during this trip.

A good sleep in the morning, and a good square meal
after it, made all the difference, and I felt so fit that by
noon I was on the hillside with Bow Singh, on the hunt
for rams. It was some time before we viewed any game,
but towards evening five rams were sighted, and Bow
Singh conducted the stalk. He went well, but made the
common blunder of approaching the game from leloiv.
The consequence was, that when I got behind a rock
within shot, and attempted to cover the game, I was dis-
covered, and the animals stampeded. I had a hasty shot,
and the barhal were round a swell and out of sight in a
second. When they were next in view they were a long
way off, and the shots I fired had no effect ; this was
most disappointing, as there were a couple of good heads
in the flock, and there was no meat in camp, and every-
one was clamorous. The mutton bagged at Puling
Siimdo had vanished within two days, for the Baltis ate
nothing else while the meat lasted. After this failure
we worked up to the ridge, and saw on the opposite slope
no fewer than twenty large rams grazing in various
directions, but not far from each other. This was a grand
sight. It was too late to attempt a stalk, however, so we
returned to camp.

I enjoyed the luxury of a pony to ride up the ascent
next morning. Shortly after dismounting we came across a
flock of ewes, and, as the demand for meat was in my mind,
I shot two. The sun had not touched the hill as yet,
and a damp mist hung on the ground. My firing so
bewildered the ewes that they forgot to bolt. After the
first shot they ran a few yards, jumped on rocks and
stared at me, not a hundred yards off ; I could have
slaughtered half a dozen. We crossed the ridge and went
21

322 THE LAST HUNT

down into the next valley, where we had seen the rams
last evening, and had a long climb up the other side,
whence we sighted ten old rams. The stalk was long and
tedious, as the animals were grazing and constantly shifting
their ground, and we were below them. This time 1
insisted on getting above the game before approaching,
and Bow Singh, who was leading, did capitally, as in the
end he brought me face to face with the largest ram in
the flock, not forty yards off. To reach my firing-point,
however, I had to wriggle along in the prone position for
some distance, and was considerably blown, when I ven-
tured to lift my head. When I did, I beheld a venerable
ram, gazing into my eyes ; neither of us had time to
speculate on the colours of our respective optics. I blazed
into his chest ; he gave me ample time, for I knelt and
took deliberate aim ; but, liorresco referens, there was no
result. I fired three more shots at the others scampering
about, and again there was no result. Blank amazement
and despair took possession of us ; we looked at each
other and sought some explanation. Bow Singh at last
said that some of the rams must have been hit, so we
went forward and saw two rams standing below the curve
of the hill. One was looking very groggy, so I let him
alone and fired at the other. I distinctly heard the stroke
of the bullet, but both the animals galloped off at full
speed. Two more shots, without result. I hit the first
ram fairly in the chest, and I distinctly heard the bullet
hit the second ; but neither fell. The last ram was hit fair
in the shoulder; the blood could be distinctly seen, and
we followed him up hill for two miles, the blood flowing
so copiously all the way that we made certain of finding
him at every turn of the hill : but he went on into the
next valley without stopping. I could think of but one
explanation to account for these mishaps. I had finished

BAD WEATHER 323

my cartridges loaded with copper-tubed Express bullets,
and was now for the first time using bullets plugged with
wax. My theory is that these latter simply smashed up and
spread out where they struck, not having, like copper-tubed
bullets, sufficient stiffness to keep their shape till they had
penetrated. I could not think of any other explanation.
My supply of the other kind not being sufficient, I had
procured an extra hundred, but never found out that
they were not copper-tubed till I was far away in the
Himalayas. I make a present of this experience to my
brother sportsmen.

After a "Europe morning" (that is, staying in bed till
late) I fell to tinkering those wretched bullets, picking
the wax out of a few and driving in wooden plugs instead.
This substitute I thought might stiffen them somewhat;
but I was much disheartened, and very anxious to see the
result of my next shot. After breakfast, we struck camp
and marched up the valley in search of new shooting
ground. The usual camping ground was boggy, so we
went on till we found a dry place, at a point where two
streams meet. The spot was evidently at a very high eleva-
tion, as it was very cold. A light drizzle had been going
on all the evening. The back of the Himalayas is not
favourable for a heavy downpour ; the rain that does
fall comes from the scraps of cloud that scrape over the
snowy range and exhaust themselves on this side. It had
drizzled like this every evening since I entered the Chhu-
Hanmo.

It rained nearly all night down in the valley, and
snowed heavily on the hill-tops. As it cleared a little at
six, I ventured out to have a look at the ground, but after
a time the rain came down again, and drove us back to
camp. It was too early for the barhal to wander so high
up at present ; hardly any grass had sprouted, and not a

324 THE LAST HUNT

flower was to be seen. Wet weather seemed to have fairly-
set in, and was interfering sadly with my sport. I was
told a strange story of a traveller in these parts, who was
probably an official of some kind on duty. He was
proceeding this way towards the Tibetan frontier, and had
his camp exactly where my tent was now pitched. A
lady of the country (a low-caste woman) was travelling in
his company, and he never came out of his tent till near
mid-day, after a comfortable breakfast, when he would place
himself in his lady's conveyance (a sort of hammock called
a clandi) and proceed to sport ; and he was successful too.
From this very camp he stalked a flock of rams on the
hillside above, being carried up in his hammock all the
way : when he was within range, he alighted and shot
three. This feat has not often been performed. He
seemed to have made a mess of his official business,
however: when he reached a place called Dokpa Sour,
within the Tibetan frontier, he had a misunderstanding
with the inhabitants, and cut off the pig-tail of one of the
principal men. This led to unpleasantness, and our
Government official was led back across the boundary, and
warned never to show his face there again.

I saw this morning on the hillside very old drop-
pings of the kiang. Down in the valley I picked up
his skull, bleached by three or four years of exposure.
The teeth were completely worn down, and the anim.al
probably died of old age. Bow Singh said that they came
here sometimes for the new grass, and went back in
winter. If that is so, why should not Ovis amnion do
the same ? After two more blank days, wet and
wretched, I began to feel sure Bow Singh was playing
me false, and, sure enough, he showed his hand at
last. He could not, he said, cross the border for fear of
the consequences to him and his — the old story. I was

BOW SINGH PLAYS ME FALSE 325

greatly enraged, and on reaching Piiling Siimdo dismissed
Bow Singh, his men and his animals. Bow Singh's
promises were a regular swindle. He had been with me
ten days, during which I bagged only two ewes ! Before
paying him, I spoke my mind to him before all the people
present ; there were a good many, as several camps were
pitched at the place.

Among the rest was a " Eajah " from Chaprang, in a
nice little tent. He had been sent to keep an eye on me,
though his purpose was declared to be the collection of
Government revenues from Nilang. Further inquiry
revealed that he was only the Munshi, or clerk, of the
Chaprang establishment : the people of Xilang called him
"Eajah" out of respect. I had no doubt he had been
sent down to watch me, probably on receipt of the report
from Tan^i, which the Panboh sent to the Chaprang-Zong
long after he had seen me fairly started. So perhaps,
after all, I had not lost much by Bow Singh's manoeuvring,
as with this Tibetan official in my rear I could not possibly
have got to Gandokh. The Munshi paid me a visit
while I was haranguing the people on the iniquities of
Bow Singh ; he wanted me to stop and have a feast. He
was a well-mannered little man, but not a true Chinaman,
I think, though wearing Chinese dress and long porcelain
earrings in his ears. I was too much out of humour at
the miscarriage of my plans to take much notice of him.
To make me more savage, a man in the Tibetan official's
camp brought me the skull of an Ovis ammon for sale.
The horns were about 44 inches long and finely curved;
the end of one was blunted. It was a splendidly massive
head, and keen was my regret that fortune had not given
me the chance of bagging a similar trophy. The animal
could not have been long shot, as the blood about the
skull was quite fresh. The man said it had been shot in

326 THE LAST HUNT

the " Chang-thang " ; but I did not believe this, as the
Great Plain is beyond the Sutlej, and even beyond the
snow-clad Gangri range. Probably the animal was bagged
on this side of that river, perhaps on the very ground that
I had been so anxious to reach ! Never dreamin^j that he
would accept it, I offered the man two rupees for the head ;
but he jumped at the offer. I did not buy the trophy,
after all, for the weight of the head was quite a coolie-
load in itself, and I had not a man to spare. The man
judged the animal to have been eight years old, and said
the horns were of ordinary size.

I made a long journey next day, starting at five in the
morning, and reaching the village of Nilang at 5 p.m. The
distance could not have been over thirteen miles, but the
road was very rough, and the coolies travelled very slowly.
The villages of Tading and Nilang pay one hundred rupees
each annually as revenue to the Tibetan authorities at
Chaprang, so they must really belong to Tibet. Nilang,
or Chhangsa, its Tibetan name, is a miserable dreary place,
almost deserted at this season, as most of the inhabitants
are up the valleys looking after their flocks, or trading in
Tibet. Excepting a few women working in the fields,
there was no life or movement about the village at all.

Shortly after leaving Ni'lang next day, I began to perspire
copiously. I had remarked, while in the higher altitudes,
on the Tibetan side, that the most vigorous and prolonged
exertion never had the effect of even making me feel moist,
though I was most warmly clad. The change in this
respect to-day was very marked ; for a drizzling rain was
falling, with a cool wind. Wild cypress, large and vigorous,
were the first trees I met ; then stunted and gnarled pines
put in an appearance ; lower down, deodar, stunted, mis-
shapen, and small, their tops invariably cut off, most likely
by the savage blasts of wind that blow along this valley.

A GOOD GAME COUNTRY 327

The country and scenery were quite changed. The
mountains on either side of the stream are masses of
disrupted rocks, running up to precipitous ridges sharp and
angular. In fact, I had entered on the Indian slope of
the Himalayas, and, wonderful to relate, without crossing
a pass ! The only one on this route is the Sangyokh-la,
or Kung-lang as it is called by the Tibetans ; but that
range of mountains is a good distance within Tibet itself,
and the pass appeared to me to be only a gentle slope.
Of all roads into Tibet, I should say this one is the easiest,
and gave the readiest access to that mysterious country.
A traveller who did not delay on the way could easily
make the Sutlej from Mussoorie in twenty days from the
time of starting from the latter place ; provided, of course,
that Tibetan officials offered no obstructions. The hiah
ground above the precipices on both sides of this valley is
just the kind of country for tehr (wild goat), and no doubt
many would be found near the sky-line ; but I saw none
from the path. In the winter months they would certainly
be found in the sheltered parts low down, and then could
be easily shot from the road.

At four o'clock on the following afternoon we came in
sight of the Jangla bungalow, the first civilised habitation
I had seen since leaving Kilba ; I also got a sight of the
iron suspension bridge over the Nilang or Bhagirati river,
which leads up to the Gangotri valley and its holy places.
Thousands of pilgrims pass along it every year, and to
them it must be a boon indeed. The view was singularly
effective : to the naked eye the bridge seemed to be only
a plank, with a slight upward curve in the centre, just
flung across the chasm at a narrow point. The name of
the builder, Mr. O'Callaghan, still survived in the memory
of the natives, though it is seventeen years since the
structure was finished. Before this bridoe and road were

328 THE LAST HUNT

made, I believe, pilgrims had to cross the face of a precipice
on the other bank of the river along a platform — a very
good test of the faith of the mild Hindu ; the passage was
called the Bhaironghati. We put up for the night in the
Jiingla bungalow. An obliging clerk lived here, and also'
two fakirs, who gave me some very nice fresh milk. The
clerk had been here ten years ; his wife was ill from fever
and dysentery, so I gave him some quinine, and recom-
mended an early change of climate. The bungalow is built
on the edge of the precipice overhanging the river, which
is some distance below — a very wild spot.

I had heard various versions of the murderer sahib's
doings since leaving Nilang, but probably none of them
were true. The wife of the culprit was said to be in the
village. If reports be true, this lady had no small part
in bringing about the bloody tragedy with which her
husband's name is connected. Farther on is the place
said to have been the scene of the tragedy. The murderer
is said to have slaughtered his victims on the level spot
between the bridges over the two streams in front of the
house. I found only the chaukidar's wife in the bungalow^
but she was very reticent. An official from Tiri had been
here for the last few days, and had just finished his-
inquiry ; so everybody's mouth was shut, as is the custom
in India when information is wanted. There seemed to
be a feeling among the people here in favour of the sahib,,
scoundrel though he is, due, no doubt, to his family connec-
tions and to the wealth and influence which I learned were
possessed by his mother.

At Bhattari I met the Tiri police official, who had been
for the last three weeks inquiring into the murder case ;
he was returning to headquarters with his report. He
gave me the history of the tragedy, which may be con-
sidered the official version, and therefore the most trust-

STORY OF A MURDEROUS "SAHIB" 329

worthy. He said the murderer treated his wife very
badly, and she had to leave him ; she went to her
people at Dardli, among whom were two men named
Micin Singh and Nain Singh, the separation being effected
by mutual consent. The mother, living with the couple
at the time, approved of the arrangement. Six days after
the separation the murderer went to Makpa village and
forcibly carried off the sister of one Dharam Singh, a noted
local beauty ; his solitude was imbearable, and this was
the way he selected to put an end to it. But his wife's
desertion still preyed on his mind, and he was haunted
with the idea that her relatives were conspiring to take
his life. This morbid feeling led him to suspect everyone
who came near his house ; he drank heavily, too, and in
the end probably quite lost his mental balance. A short
distance below the house there lived a trader named Mala
Eam, a Bisahiri, who was a connection, by marriage, of
Mian Singh's. The murderer went down to this man's hut
and called for Mala Eam. He was wrapped up in his
choga (cloak), and had a khiikri concealed under it.
His manner at once betrayed his intention, and Mala Eam
concealed himself, while his wife stood up and said he was
not at home. The murderer suddenly drew his heavy
knife, and, with two blows on the head and neck, killed
her on the spot. The dogs began to bark at him, and a
villager came running up to drive them off; he attacked
the man and wounded him severely. He then went off to
his house. He suspected everyone he saw of coming to kill
him, and accordingly attacked anyone he encountered. He
went down to the level between the two bridges, and saw
two men ; they said they were taking shoes to Mian Singh
to sell. This enraged him. " You scoundrels ! " he said ;
" you should have brought them to me ! " and cut them
down at once. Two men from the Makpa village then

330 THE LAST HUNT

met him. The murderer cut off the top-knot of one and
the ears of the other, because they belonged to that village.
In this way he killed three persons, wounded seven, and
destroyed twenty-one sheep. Probably many more people
were murdered, as his friends were said to have thrown
some bodies into the river. These were probably pilgrims,
strangers about whom nobody asked questions. The day
after these murders a doctor sahib arrived, and he persuaded
the murderer to go down to Tiri and report in person
what a line thing he had done. He went, was taken
prisoner and put in chains. The police officer called the
murderer an " Isai," or Christian, By further questioning
I discovered that this term was applied to him because he
was neither a saliib nor a good Hindu. He was said
to be the son of a Dom (a low-caste man), and report had
it that the mother had shared her money with the latter.
From what the official told me, it was clear that the
murderer had borne a bad character for many years, and,
no doubt, had been going from bad to worse till this
culminating point in his career. I may add that he was
sentenced to five years' imprisonment and a fine of 20,000
rupees. He had the honour of being tenderly inquired
after in Parliament.

I may close my narrative here. I reached Mussoorie
on the 21st July, where I enjoyed a well-earned rest before
going back to harness in the plains.

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