Citation
My first shoot

Material Information

Title:
My first shoot (MS 381296/01)
Creator:
Blaker, William Frederick, 1877-1933, army officer
Blaker, W. F., 1877-1933
Place of Publication:
[London]
Publisher:
[self published]
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
100 p.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Big game hunting -- India ( lcsh )
Hunting -- India ( lcsh )
Spatial Coverage:
Asia -- India -- Jammu and Kashmir -- Ladakh
ایشیا -- بھارت -- جموں و کشمیر -- لداخ
एशिया -- भारत -- जम्मू-कश्मीर -- लद्दाख
ལ་དྭགས
Coordinates:
34.17 x 77.58

Notes

Abstract:
About a journey on foot through Ladakh
General Note:
"... by W. F. Reichwald"
General Note:
100 pages, typewritten with hard cover
Biographical:
Blaker, William Frederick, 1877-1933, was born William Frederick Reichwald. Col. William Frederick Blaker was born with the surname Reichwald on 9 April 1877 (Tynemouth, Tyne and Wear, England). He married Helen Elizabeth Blaker in 1911 and in 1915 changed his name by deed poll to Blaker. He received his first commission in the Royal Artillery, 1898; Capt., 1905; Maj., 1914; Lt.-Col., 1918, Col., 1922; served in various Royal Horse and Royal Field Artillery batteries in India, South Africa, and at home, until appointed Assistant Military Secretary to the Commander-in-Chief in India, 1914; during European War served on the Staff of the Indian Cavalry Corps in France, and for three years on the General Head-quarters Staff of the Mesopotamian Expeditionary Force (despatches 3 times, DSO, OBE, Knight Legion of Honour); General Staff, War Office, 1919–23; British Military Attaché at Rome, 1923–27; General Staff Officer, 1st grade North China Command, 1927–29; retired pay, 1929. He died on 20 August 1933 in West Sussex, England. [Source: http://www.findagrave.com/]
Donation:
Donated to SOAS Library in September 2016.

Record Information

Source Institution:
SOAS University of London
Rights Management:
Copyright, the Estate of W. F. Blaker. Permission granted to SOAS University of London to digitize and display this item for non-profit research and educational purposes. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions requires permission of the copyright holder.
Resource Identifier:
MS 381296 /01 ( Soas manuscript number )

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Full Text
MY FIRST SHOOT


My Bag


A. Reichwald
July 19, 1905




"MY FIRST SHOOT."

By
W. F. Reichwald, Lieut. R.H.A.


As soon a.s my three months' leave came out in Orders
I despatched my bearer" Dobree Ram, my cook, my dog "Gunner",
and such heavy luggage as I thought I should not require,
from here to Srinagar. I gave them a few days' start so
that they might arrive there about the same time as myself.
My leave was dated to commence on June 7th, and all
that very hot day I was busily occupied "making bundobusts",
Those two words are full of meaning, at least to me. They
recall dust, thirst, perspiration, worries of all sorts, and
last but not least, a protracted interview with that wily,
but not invincible gentleman well known to the subalterns as
the Battery "Shroff." Not until after midnight had I shaken
off the host of "hangers-on", who had pursued me for hours,
begging for baksheesh, chits, and every other conceivable
thing they thought might be of use to them, and I was glad
indeed when the 2.06 a.m. train, bound for Rawal Pindi, at
last slid smoothly out of Meerut railway station. Dirt and
heat combined to make the journey to Pindi as unpleasant as
most Indian railway journey's are. I was, however, too
eagerly looking forward to my holiday to care much about
discomforts and when, at the end of twenty-four hours, we


pulled up at our destination, my only thought .was to get on
as fast as possible. My next experience consisted in a
drive of about a hundred and ninety-five miles in a tonga,
a sort of two-wheeled pony cart. As this was cool, and
quite a novelty to me, I already began to enjoy myself.
The first stage was distinctly funny. Having pre-
viously wired for a seat in the mail tonga, little time was
lost in getting under way, and less atill when actually en
route. We left Pindi Station at full gallop, and this
pace, in spite of pitch darkness, was kept up nearly all
the way to Murree, forty miles from Pindi, where we arrived
about 8 a.m. Our crew consisted of three; myself, the
driver and another native whose sole duty apparently consist-
ed in flogging the ponies, and yelling and hooting at the
top of his voice. In spite of all his noise, no doubt
intended to warn other' wayfarers betimes of our approach,we
nevertheless almost crashed into an ekka, or native pony-cart,
before we had gone a quarter of a mile, and before daylight
I had become quite accustomed to close shaves with bullock-
carts, camels, and other' similar obstructions. All these
little incidents were immediately preceded by wild yells on
either side, followed by the choicest Hindustani epithets.
(2)


the ponies were thrashed and pulled all over the road, the
camels were punched and smacked right and left, whilst the
bullocks had their tails twisted in every possible direction,
The latter system of steerage, I may mention, is always ap-
plied to bullocks ;and donkeys in this country.
Subsequent experience taught me that my first tonga
driver was of a much more dangerous type than his brethren,
but even the pace at which the latter drove made me gasp
now and again, until I had gained full confidence in their
prowess. At Murree I met a brother officer (1) also bound
for Srinagar, so we decided to go on together; end leaving
about 9 a.m., we drove as far as Kohala, "where we met with
a check in the shape of a landslip. The road from Murree
to Kohala is a steep decline, running along the side of the
mountains and overlooking the roaring torrents of the Jhelum
far below. At ordinary times this road is very good, but
a severe storm which broke over the valley the night before,
had brought down tons of earth, stones, and other debris.
Scores of vehicles, of all kinds blocked the road, and among
them I found one carrying my servants, my dog, and my heavy
(1), This was Captain Vesey of the 2nd Sikhs,
killed with Colonel Plunkett's column in
Somaliland, April, 1903.
(3.)


"baggage. For some time I doubted whether I should get my
things across at all, but much can be accomplished by the
distribution of a little baksheesh, consequently at the
and of an hour or so, my belongings had been removed safely
to the other side of the obstacle, which the native official
in charge of clearance operations, had previously declared
to be absolutely impassable.
That day we were unable to pro peed further than Gurhi,
where we spent the night. At Kohala we had crossed the
Jhelum and set foot in Cashmir territory. The road for
.some miles continued to be very ba,d and we frequently had
to "get out and shove"; delay was, however, of little con-
sequence, my companion was in no hurry .and I, halving
overtaken my kit, knew that I should have to wait at
Srinagar until it turned up. We spent a pleasant evening
in the' Dak Bungalow, and left Gurhi at about 6.50 next
morning, arriving at Baramula the same evening. I will
not dwell on the details of our drive, suffice it to say,
that the bone shaking we got from the tonga was quite
compensated for, by the beauty of the magnificent country
through which we passed.
After a "wash and brush up" and a shave (my last for
(4)


some time), we strolled out to look for a house-boat for my
friend. No sooner had our intention become evident, than
we were' surrounded by a veritable crowd of "mahnjhies", or
boatmen, anxious to let their craft. A suitable boat was
soon found, and then we returned to the bungalow for dinner.
Early on Monday, June 11th, we again boarded our tonga, and
did our" final stage to Srinagar, (about thirty miles,) arriving
there about noon. We had travelled a hundred and ninety-
five miles all told, and. had. both had- enough tonga driving
to last us for a while. We found. Srinagar in a very fes-
tive mood, the taking of Pretoria having been mad.e the
occasion for a great fete. Sports were the attraction, and,
to judge by the noise made, the natives certainly enjoyed
them.
Anxious to rest our somewhat shaken limbs we turned
in early that evening. My companion expected his boat up
early on the morrow and I was looking forward to another
long day of making bundobusts. Before retiring, however,
I spent an amusing quarter of an hour, pursuing, with the
aid of a slipper, many curious creeping and jumping things
I found in my room. This my first bag augured well for
the future, many noble animals were slain, amongst them two
or three centipedes. The Dak Bungalow at Srinagar is a
(5)


weird spot at times,
Tuesday, June 12th, was a busy day, but I think on
the whole a useful one. Of course on all shooting expedi-
tions one of the most important items is a good shikari, or
nstive sporting servant, and the services of such an one
are by no means easy to procure'. The difficulty is not
caused by scarcity of numbers, dozens of men .being always
available, but for a beginner it is almost impossible to
select a good man from amongst those who throng around him
presenting "chits" or certificates, either genuine or other-
wise, in which their praises are sung. The Oriental's love
for a chit is proverbial, but whether the -s'ahib attaches as
much value to this form of testimonial as our Arian Brother
imagines, I very much doubt. Personally, I do not attach
the slightest value to a chit of any kind, unless I know
the alleged writer of it and have good reason for believing
it to be genuine. Those^ who prompted by sympathy, give
a servant a, better chit than he deserves would, do well to
consider the annoyance they often cause those employers,
who/ relying on their recommendation, give that servant work.
As regards my shikari, however, I was certainly very lucky.
A subaltern of the Rifle Brigade strongly recommended me
(1). Capt. Sir J. Power, killed,or died/ in South
Africa during the War.
(6)


to employ his man Saibra, with whom he had just done a very
successful shoot; "and never for one moment have I regretted
taking into my service this really 'excellent fellow. To
this officer indeed, I owe a .debt of gratitude for the many
useful hint's he gave me, hints which did so much to guide
me in making my arrangements regarding "Organization and
Equipment."
In .addition to buying a sma.ll 60 lb. tent for myself
and two servants' tent's, I laid in a stock of provisions
including:
Jam(12 potsj. Butter.
Baking powder. Biscuits.
Tea (4 lbs.). Vaseline.
Cornflour. Brandy.
Candles. Bovril.
Bar-s oap. Curry-powder.
Tooth-powder. Vinegar
Sa.lt. Pepper.
Mustard. Matche s,
and, last but not lea.st, cocoa. One domestic article, how-
ever, I forgot and I lived sorely to regret the omission;
the idea of marking insect powder pa.rt of my bagga.ge never
entered my mind, but I should advise all future travellers
in these regions to lay in a considerable stock. More than
once I was what might be described as a "verminous person".
As regards supplies of meat, rice, milk and flour" I was
informed that, at this season I could rely" on the villages
(7)


through which my route passed and this information proved .to
be correct.
Wednesday, June 13th, was the day on which I actually
commenced my journey; for, having made my final arrange-
ments quite early that morning, we shoved off at 'about 7.30
a.m. I say "shoved off" designedly because we did the
first fourteen miles by boat to Gundarbal on the Sind Eiver.
Owing to strong currents we did not arrive there till nearly
3 p.m., by which time I had more or less lost my temper with
the mahnjhies or boatmen. I had made known my intention of
reaching Kamguam (eleven miles from Gunderbal) that day,but
my servants had evidently decided that I should not succeed.
Everything was done in the most dilatory manner, and. not
till I had brought severe measures to bear", did things begin
to move to my liking. Paddling down the canal through the
old city of Srinagar was very interesting, though at times
distinctly malodorous-, butras a description of all I saw
there-would carry me too far, I must refrain from saying
anything about this old town. At Gunderbal, as pre-ar-
ranged, I met my transport-ponies, four in number. After
weighing their lo.ads, we set off up the valley. Our baggage
for myself anf five men, including tents, guns, ammunition,
etc., was just about five cwt., so we were enabled, to travel
(8)


fairly rapidly. But hurry as we would, we were unable to
escape the rain, which soon cane down upon us. Heavy clouds
had been gathering overhead for some time, and before long
the servants were all wet through. To me the rain was not
unwelcome; a long waterproof kept me as dry as aboh^while
I was atle to point out to my men, perhaps not without a
little suppressed glee, that they had their own d.awdling to
blame for their present uncomfortable condition. X am
convinced, that the lesson they got that night, and. the fant
that I was able to overcome their obstructions on the first
day of our journey, did much to aid me in getting them along,
when subsequently we carried out longer and. more difficult
marches.
We reached Kangaum rest-house about 8 p.m. and whilst
the rest of the servants were unloadding the animals, Dobree
and I went to the so-called shop, and purchased eggs and
rice for -dinner. Soon my bed. was put up, which with can-
dles, comfortable. Gunner was very wet, so after drying him
well, I gave him a good feed, put on his coat, and tucked
him up for the night.
Before sitting down to my meal, I d.iscovered that I
(a)


had forgotten to bring a chelumchee^ or Indian wash-ba,sin, so
I 'had to make use of my pie-dish ,and this served me well
till a coarse wooden native basin wa,s able to make good the
deficiency. The next morning we left Kangaum 'at six, and
commenced another double march via Goond to Gugangair,where
we pitched our camp on a nice grassy spot beneath some fine
tree's. The scenery all the way up the Bind Va,lley, as far
as Baltal, is remarkably beautiful, and forms a striking
contrast to the arid plateaux beyond the Zojula Pass. Our
next march to Baltal was a tiring one, and our camp that
night was- swept by a cold wind coming down from the pass.
Heavy snow fell during the evening, and two other
sahibs in camp near" us predicted difficulties for our ad-
vance in the morning. Even at this time of the year it is
impossible, owing to the snow, to scale the narrow path
which winds its way up the -abrupt mountain side, and the
only way in which the pass can be crossed at all, is by
ascending the narrow gorge down which the torrent rushes.
The hard snow we trod formed a. natural bridge, beneath which
the water had burrowed its way, and. where the snowy vault
had fallen in, we could see the gurgling stream "far be low us.
The ponies struggled bra.vely for some time, until we
(10.)


reached' a spot they could not possibly pass with their
loads, on their backs. All had to be relieved of their bur-
dens, and "man-handled" across a narrow path, one man
holding on to their heads 'and another to their tails. A
group of Tibetan merchants, wild-looking fellows, wore
the first I had seen and I must confess I was much struck
by their peculiar appearance, their' silence, and the stolid
way in which they gazed at all we did. As I stood watch-
ing them, I for the first time experienced that strange
fascination, which grew ever more powerful within me the
longer I remained in that wild weird country of Ladakh.
Though I scarcely realised it, I was indeed at that- moment,
standing at what is practically the entrance gate to that
"Paristan" or fairyland beyond. In a. distance of little
more than two miles one rises to the height of 11,000 feet,
and leaving behind, the green vales and wooded slopes of the
Sind Valley, the traveller sees before him the bare hills
of Ladakh. It took us three hours and three quarters
to reach the watershed, when we began to descend the easy
gradient down to Metzehoy and thence on to T.Iatayan and Dras.
For a considerable distance the Pass was one mass of snow
and. we had to "advance with care as the ponies frequently
(15.)


sank "into it well above the hocks. Beyond the watershed,
snow and hail began to fall heavily, and, a.s we approached
the huts of Metzehoy, radn took their place, making our
onward march anything but pleasant.
About two miles short of Matayan we were suddenly
startled by a shrill, loud whistle, and instinctively both
Gunner and I stopped short, and looked round in surprise.
The noise was quite close at hand, but not a thing could
either of us see, which would give us a. clue as to what had
caused it, A light touch on the shoulder from my shikari
told me that eyes better trained than mine had come to our
assistance, and following up the line indicated by Saibra's
finger, I noticed a. little black and tan head looking perki-
ly over the top, of a boulder. Gunner was still bewildered,
for^standing only about one foot nothing, he was unable to
see the marmot's head which just barely showed above the'
.stone; had he seen it before I did, the game would have
been up; a yap, a bark, and a direct frontal attack,
followed by the immediate disappearance of the marmot,would
have been the inevitable result. Therefore, fearing that
his sporting ardour might interfere with my bag, I sent him
on to Matayan with the servants whilst I remained behind
(12.)


with Saibr'a and one other man. A pea-rifle is the most
sporting and amusing weapon to use after marmot, but not
having one of these with me, I resorted to my 12 bore gun,
and No. 4. shot. With the greatest care we crawled up
towards the boulder behind which the marmot sat, and by-
taking cover behind stones and in folds of the ground,we at
length got to within sixty yards. I fired, and over he
toppled; we found him stone dead at the entrance of his
burrow. I shot a. second that day and was unlucky enough to
lose a third, which, though hard hit, scrambled away under-
ground before I could get him.
With a. shot gun, marmot are not difficult to hit, but
actually bagging them is quite another matter. As a "rule
the head only is visible, and/unless killed outright, they
are almost certain to escape, a. second shot being out cf the
question. When crawling up to them, Saibra would keep close
to me and when I raised my gun to fire, he would crouch by
my side "ready to dart forward as soon as he saw my finger
move, to snatch the marmot up before it had time to scuttle
away underground. Sometimes we separated, and while he ap-
proached. from one side, I endeavoured to get within range
elsewhere. On these occasions he took care to expose
(13.)


himself somewhat and thus distract the animal's attention
v
from myself. This plan answered well, and several time's I
got up close behind the motionless little head, with its
bright dark eyes rivetted on Sa.ibra and closely watching his
every movement, I afterwards shot several more marmot but
did not again employ the "separation" method, it seemed to
me like taking too mean .an advantage of such pretty little
creatures. Saibra told me that they are devoid: of all
sense of smell, and though I cannot quite believe this to
be the ca.se, their sense of smell certainly does, not appear
to be very acute, as we frequently got very near them with
the wind in our backs.
Marmot are a species of rodent, and in "appearance
they somewhat resemble a, large, rough-haired guinea-pig,but
they possess- large powerful feet or claws with which they
can dig. I generally found them on grassy slopes or on
spurs running out from the larger hills. There appear to
be many varieties, for later, up in Changchenao, I saw many
differing widely in size and colour from the black and tan
species I shot near Mataysn.
Darkness was setting in when Saibra and I started off
to Matayan. Here we found the camp pitched, and soon
(14.)


after a change into dry clothes and a good warm dinner, I
was ready for bed.
About six,the next morning, June 17th, Saibra and I
marched out of caanp ahead of the transport. Jle had told me
there were more marmot a little further on, so I determined
to add a few more to my bag and without much trouble I shot
four.
Being anxious to push on as rapidly as possible, I
decided that Ta.'shgaun should be our next halting place.
Colonel Ward's excellent little book "The Sportsman's Guide
to Cashmir and Ladakh" lays down the distance from Mat ay an
via D'ras to Tashgaun as being thirty-one miles, but I fancy
it is not quite so much. The edition I possessed was an
old one and/having been unable to procure a good map before
leaving Meerut, I could not find out exactly how far we
marched, but Saibra and I having gone off the road to get
at the marmot, had certainly done a good thirty miles by the
time we reached Tashgaun that evening. We' overtook the
baggage .animal's and servants before they reached Dras where
we were to change ponies. Emerging from a narrow gorge we
saw the little place with its quaint old fort lying in a
broad,undulating valley before us. On all sides were bare
(15.)


"barren hills, and^now that one's view was less restricted,
the difference between Ladakh and Cashmir became more accen-
tuated than ever. Whilst our men were unloading and
reloading the bagga,ge animals, I strolled about looking at
the DaX Bungalow and a few other objects, of interest. Among
these I found two upright stones, apparently now used as'
gate posts, evidently of great antiquity; they were long
and narrow and each had a curious human figure carved upon
it. The figures evidently represented deities of some .sort.
Later on during my wanderings I saw "several similar monu-
ments, the most striking of all being the large figure of
the Goddess Chamba at Mulbekh.
Before' leaving Dras I despatched a few letters from
the little post office. These offices were to be found
all the way up to Leh and a regular dadly postal service is
cairried on between that town and Srinagar. The dak-runners
take, if I remember rightly, six days to do the two hundred
and sixty miles and what a boon they confer on the lonely
sportsman, only those can realise who have watched their
mail-coolie, perhaps for an hour or more, gradually coming
nearer and nearer up some long silent valley in Changchenmo
(16.)


until at last he has handed to them that precious little
packet of letters and papers from home.
Another most excellent arrangement has been made with
regard to transport animals. Right up as far' as Tankse,
the village "lambadars',' or headsmen, supply these to travel-
lers at the modest rate of eight to twelve annas per stage
for each animal. The "rates are fixed according to the'
length of each march, and although the ponies are not worth
much according to our ideas of horse-flesh, if is surprising
how well they get over the ground with their loads.
After purchasing a young, fat-looking sheep for the
sum of Rs. 1. 4. 0. (l/B.) we marched off from Dras. about
noon. I found it necessary to mount my bearer Dobree and
my cook Nanneh on ponies. The way they had lagged behind
and looked miserable long before we reached Dras had con-
vinced me that it was useless to ask them to do anything
like thirty miles on their feet. I was rather annoyed at
being thus hampered by men unable to keep up and I have
never gone back on the conclusion I then came to, that, to
take plainsmen to rough it in these parts was the greatest
mistake I had made throughout. Nevertheless these two af-
forded me a certain amount of amusement, for, whatever else
(17.)


they could do, horsemanship was not in their line at all.
The cook was particularly unfortunate. Various acrobatic
performances he had gone through in mounting,had caused his
pugr'ee to come undone, and whilst he was endeavouring to
put it right again, his pony set off at a gallop across
country. What actually occurred I don't know, but with
the pugree streaming like a pennant behind them,both Nanneh
and the pony were rapidly disappearing in the distance when
suddenly a low mud wall put an end to their wild career.
Both came to a dead stop, the pony on one side of the w;all
and the cook on the other.
For the next few miles things went smoothly enough,
and I was congratulating myself on our progress, vrhen the
sheep began to get annoying. He pulled at his rope in all
possible directions, bumped into the coolie's legs time af-
ter time, and finally absolutely refused to play any more.
We were at length obliged to kill him and load his caroase
on to one of the ponies.
The rest of that day's march was trying, and I was
indeed glad ivhen I reached the little grove at Tashgaun, and
found another sahib there. He was a medical student,
(1). Philipps. Leander Club.
(18.)


returning from a. shoot in the Wardwan, and I think his
friendly welcome and his large, cool whiskey and soda were
the best things of their kind I had had for some time.After
a good meal and a pleasant smoke and chat, we both turnedin,
and I had a sound sleep to prepare me for my next ?day's
march of twenty-six miles.
This day was an uninteresting one inasmuch as we had'
to walk along the water's edge down a narrow stony ravine
the whole way to Kargil, About mid-day it became so hot
that Gunner and I fell out for a few hours' rest in a small
clump of trees. The servants rode on, and when I got into
camp about 5.50 p.m., I found everything ready, and as com-
fortable as it could be under the circumstance's. My tent
was pitched just below the post office, and before long, the.
"Thessildar" or headman came to pay me his respects bringing
a large brass tray full of currants and dried apricots. The
former I gave to my servant's, whilst the apricots were a
very welcome addition to my daily rice pudding.
I own to having been fairly done after this march,
succeeding as it did the one of thirty mile's on the previous
day. The heat had been excessive, and it was also the
(19.)


first time I had attempted to march any considerable distance
in chuplies. These chuplies are a kind of hob-nailed san-
dal secured to the foot by means of -a leather network over
the toes, and by a strap which 'runs round the heel and
fastens by a buckle on the outside of the foot. It is best
to get the soles rather longer than the foot, and the end
pointed and turned up at the toes; the projecting piece is
held up and bank by a. small leather band and thus protects
the beginner from" knocking his feet against many a sharp
stone until he has got used to his new kind of foot gear.
Inside the chuplie I first wore a soft cowhide ankle boot,
laced up the front and with a soft thick leather sole; inside
this again I wore an ordinary thick home-knitted sock. Chup-
lies, cloth putties, and loose knickerbockers formed my
nether marching kit, arid I have entered into the above de-
tails because the question of what to wear in the way of
boots etc., is one of the utmost importance to anyone
contemplating long marches in the regions I visited. Some
men might, of course, prefer to wear ammunition boots,shoot-
ing boots, or grass shoes, but in my opinion none of these
are equal to chuplies. They are also cheap -and light, and
(20.)


a fresh supply can always "be ordered up from Srinagar or 'Leh,
when one might ha.ve some difficulty in procuring a new pair
of boots, Grrass-shoes I never' wore myself but I met
severed men carrying coils of grass rope which obliging"out-
fitters" in Srinagar had told them they would need, and
which they had afterwards found to be quite useless. Chup-
lies with felt soles can be bought for use on snow,but they
are most suited for the rough, stony ground almost
invariably met with in Ladakh and Changchenma,
At the time when Europeans visit these countries,
rain is seldom met with, but in wet weather, the chuplie,as
generally sold^is not practicable because the heel strap
stretches and causes the foot to slide about on the sole.
The defect could, no doubt, be counteracted to a considera-
ble extent by the substitution of a strong canvas-tape
heel-band. The cow-hide sock should be kept well greased
in all weathers. If these few simple precautions.are taken,
I am convinced that once accustomed to the chuplie, few men
will care to revert to any other form of boot or shoe.While
on the question of dress I may say that a large sola-topee
or pith-hat, and blue or green goggles set in fine wire net-
(21.)


ting rims, are also absolutely essential owing to the power
of the sun and the strong glare from the reflection of its
rays by the sand and stones. Soine men wear "lungies", a
form of native head-gear, but I do not consider them to be
sufficiently reliable. Only when actually stalking did I
discard my sola-topee for the less conspicuous Kashmiri
cloth hat, which with a red or purple lining and a fawn-
coloured pugree, I found to be quite safe for a short time.
Early on the morning of June 19th, we left Kargil,
determined to reach Mulbekh, about twenty-four miles away.
After crossing the river by a dilapidated old bridge, we
ascended a steep, bare, stony slope for some distance. The
march was a tedious one, though not without interest; look-
ing back we could discern the green terraced fields of
Kargil, stretching in a long, narrow strip along the foot of
the mountains, whilst ahead all was barren, rugged, and
brown, representing a most extraordinary appearance. It
seemed to me like entering a veritable "valley of dry bones1,'
a regular land of stones. Never have I seen anything more
grand, and at the same time, more desolate and depressing.
On either side were high, rocky hills, absolutely bare, not
a bird was on the wing, except perhaps an occasional crow
(22.)


startled from some crevice in that'mass of silent stone.The
very river along which our path lay, seemed to be dying,
whilst its tributaries were dead; the original bed, in
some places several hundred yards across, was a broad
expanse of rough gravel, and down its centre trickled what
was now little more than a narrow brook. Villages we're few
and far between, but, when met with, they formed a striking
contrast to the rest of the scenery. Coming to the top of
some ridge, we qould see a bright green patch deep down in
a hollow before us; long, narrow fields, built up in ter-
races one above the other like the seats of a Roman
coliseum, extended partly up the mountain en either side and
down to the little stream below. The very stream, in fact,
which, only a quarter of a mile away, seemed lost in its
parched surrounding's, appeared to have stored up all its
remaining vitality till it got to this spot and then to have
shot it all out in one determined effort to give life and
strength to "Something" in this land of death.
Higher up than the fields, ,as though afraid to in-
trude on even a square inch of what might be turned into
arable land, stood the flat-roofed mud houses of the vil-
lagers. Large holes and trenches showed where they had
(23.)


"been digging for gold,which, in si/iall quantities, is washed
down by many of these rivers.
Interesting as this march had been, it had exercised
such a strangely depressing influence over me, that I was
not sorry to emerge at length into the broader open valley between Shargol and Mulbekh, As we approached
the latter, the noise of pipes and tom-toms greeted us, and
before long we were informed that another sahib had arrived,
and was in camp on the polo ground down by the river bed. I
found him to be an officer of the Indian Civil Service,
named Clarke, and again I had an unexpected, and therefore
doubly pleasant companion. Far from being on the "rough-
and-tumble" like myself, he was travelling in an almost
luxurious manner; he had several spacious tents, and was
accompanied by quite a large retinue of servant's and as-
sistants who were helping him to arrange the "Settlement"of
Ladakh on which he was employed. Mr. Clarke received me
most kindly, and a welcome cup of tea, followed later by an
excellent dinner, taught me to appreciate the merits of at
least one of his numerous attendants.
The natives had asked leave to have a tomasha in
honour of the "Settlement Sahib" or "bundobust wallah", as
(24.)


they call him, "so, whilst we were at tea, a motley crowd of
men and women assembled to dance and play for our edifica-
tion. The peculiarity of the performance was equalled only
by the peculiarities of the performers themselves. Their
faces were distinctly of the Mongolian type and although
their almond eyes were not so pronounced as those cf a China-
man, their long flowing garments, their pig-tails, and turn-
ed-up shoes gave them a very Chinese look. Their loose,
coarse clothes entirely hid their figures, and as they
swayed gently backwards and forwards to the strains of the
music, they certainly presented a strange picture. I was

informed that amongst them there were some of the noblest of
the land, but, whatever their social status may have been,
they were the most plebeian-looking lot of nobles I had
ever beheld. Particularly noticeable was the head-dress of
the women. Their pitch-black hair hung in long tresses
down their backs, whilst large pieces of black sheepskin
fastened to either side of their heads, so as to stand out
A
at right angles and almost completely conceal the ears.
Passing from the forehead^ and sometimes extending down to
their ankles, was the peyracke, or broad strip of leather set
with turquoise, whose size and number indicated the rank


and wealth of the owner.
The dance was followed by a game of polo, and this
was really extremely funny. The ground, measuring about
100 yards, by 40, was bounded on either side by a low stone
wall on which sat the spectators. At one end there was an
abrupt rise and at the other a sheer drop down into the.
gravelly riVer bed, A couple of large stones at each end
did duty for goal posts. The ponies, averaging about 12
hands, were an unkempt lot, and as they galloped across the
ground, their long manes and tails fluttered in the breeze
like so many pennants. Several of them were dead lame, but
the Ladakhis- did not seem to worry about trifles of that
sort. Amidst good-natured jests, and laughter, the men
took the field, and without more ado, commenced the game.
There was no la,ck of excitement, and it was marvellous to
see the way they rushed over the ground in every direction,
entirely ignoring all rules as to "crossing", or going "off-
side", etc.. The teams numbered six or seven a side, but
these numbers varied continually; if any man felt so dis-
posed he would fall out, have a chat with some of the spec-
tators, and join in again when ever he liked. Collisions
with the side wall's, and consequent spills were of frequent
(m


occurrence, but no one was hurt. If the ball happened to
strike the wall, and thus go "in touch" one cf the players
i
would take it up in his right hand and, galloping off full
tilt in the direction of the opposite goal, he would drop
it and strike it again before it rea.ched the ground, often
in this way sending it high up into the air. The sticks
used were, I should say, about four feet in length and not
unlike an inferior hockey stick, making the many extraordin-
ary strokes all the more remarkable. I scarcely ever saw
a man miss the ball; they seemed to be able to hit equally
well all found their ponies. One man, better mounted than
the rest, was particularly amusing. Ee was riding a very
fast bay pony, and, being quite unable to control it in any
way, he had evidently been told off to play in goal so as
not to endanger the lives of the others. Hpvering round
the outskirts of the game, he waited patiently until the ball
was struck out from some scrimmage and then, with a clear
run before him, he gave a loud yell and swooped down on it
like a thunderbolt, unable to stop his pony until it had
scrambled half way up the steep bank behind one goal,of had
tumbled down into the river bed behind the other. I saw
(27.)


liim repeat this operation no .less than five or six times-.
His play was perhaps not so good as that of the rest of the
men, but to judge from the alacrity with .which they made
way on hearing his warning cry, he must have exercised a
considerable "moral effect" on his opponents. -Another
noticeable figure was one of the old he,admen, whose robes
had evidently once been red but had now turned a sort of
piebald purple, whilst down the centre of his back was a
large triangular grease-mark caused by the wagging of his
pig-tail.
When polo was over,- Mr. Clarke and I spent a pleasant
evening together talking and smoking, and early next morning
we parted company, he to continue his Settlement work, and
I to proceed on my march to Karbu.


CHAPTER IX.
We' had now got into the country of those strange peo-
ple, the Tibetan Buddhists. At Shergol, a village we had
passed on the previous- day, we had seen the first goinpa or
monastery, perched on what looked like an almost inaccessi-
ble spot .some way up the steep mountain side. To-day the
ancient monastery of Mulbekh looked down on us from the top
of a. high conical mass of rock on which it stands. Both
afforded typical examples of the strange sites which the
Buddhist Priest, or Lama, selects for his dwellings. Just
as the wild sea-fowl, with their mournful cry, love the
storm-swept cliffs, too cold or bleak for other birds or
beasts, so does the Lama amongst men love to inhabit some
weird and cheerless spot. Here he can dream of Nirvana,
and silently contemplate the distant peaks and the valleys
far below him. The Lamas aire strange people in :a strange
land,
I fear, when talking of Ladakh, I shall often be
obliged to use this adjective; I know of no other to des-
cribe the impression made upon me by my surroundings. Again
(29.)


and again when regarding the scene around me, the clear
blue sky, the treeless heights, the bright green valleys,
all in death-like silence, the -words, "strange", "weird",
"uncanny", seemed to sound in my ears. The Lamas., of whom
I was soon to meet many, appear to consider themselves su-
perior beings to the rest of mankind, but on closer inspec-
tion, their vaunted superiority becomes- a matter of grave'
doubt. They are just as dirty looking as their 3aybrethren,
but whilst these frequently display a certain sense of
humour, the Lama, always- appears surly and cynical. There
are two classes of Lamas-, the Red and the Yellow; Those I
met all belonged to the former, the latter being more pre-
valent in Chinese Tibet. They have, I believe, immense
power in the country and their monasteries, are possessed of
considerable wealth.
If these inscrutable, unfathomable men have set
themselves the task of passively but firmly resisting
European intrusion into the "Forbidden Land", one can indeed
not be surprised -at the difficulty which has for years been
experienced in piercing the veil which shrouds the sacred
city of Llassa. The persistent ana stealthy policy of
Russia alone has recently .succeeded in persuading the Grand
(30.)


Lama of Tibet 'to despatch, a political envoy; to enter into
closer and more friendly relations- with the Ministers of
the Czar. Yvhat far-reaching results this apparently triv-
ial occurrence may produce it as difficult to foretell.
Russia's immediate motives may also not "be obvious, but
certain it is that those set forth in the Press for the
edification of the world:can scarcely be taken as serious.
The principal duty of the Lamas lies in the performance of
all religious rites, for the laity, who themselves know-
nothing of their religion, and beyond this I will refrain
from saying more about these curious monks than came to my
personal notice. The subjects of Budaism ana Lamaism have
been so ably treated by others, that it would be presumption
on my part to poach on their preserves in a narrative,which
is, moreover, only intended to deal with my own
experiences.
Passing through the long straggling village of
Mulbekh we came upon the huge figure of the O-odaess Chamba,
hewn in strong relief in the face of an enormous boulder,oh
the right of the road. As we continued our march, other
curious monuments in the shape on "chortens" ana"manisM met
(31.)


our gaze. The former are large pot-like receptacles in
which are placed the ashes- of holy Lamas- and departed
Saints; they are dotted all along the valley and hillsides,
singly or in groups, their peculiar, ornamented tops> and
the gaudy colours- with which they are bedaubed, rendering
them most conspicuous amidst their sombre surroundings. In
some of the villages I visited later I saw dozens of all
shapes .and sizes, standing close together.
The manis are long, stone walls, built up without
cement or mortar. They appeared to me to be sometimes
quite half a mile in length, whilst they measured fully fif-
teen feet in width and ten or twelve in height. The top
of a mani slope's away' on either side like the roof of a
house and is covered with innumerable flat stones from four
or five inches to two or three feet square. Every single
slab is engraved with a curious inscription whose words 'are
to the Laaakhi what the "Pater Noster" is to the Roman Cath-
olic, "0 mani patmi hoom 0" ("Oh thou jewel in the Lotus
oh"), are the words which in this strange country are re-
peated, mechanically or otherwise, perhaps more often than
any other prayer" in the Universe. The manis are, in fact,
(32.)


only one oj? the different praying machines made use of "by
the Ladakhi's, and to set the machine in motion, all the
devout Buddist has to do is to pass "by on the left, when
every stone sends- up on his behalf to the gods above, the
prayers inscribed on it. Thus whenever a mani is reached
the path bifurcates- so as to accommodate devotees coming
from either direction. The slabs, with which the tops of
the manis are tiled, are carved by" pious Lamas who, I was.
given to understand, regard this work as a kind of penance.
Many of the stones are decorated with the figures of the
deities, and occasionally the Bud.dist cross
be seen on them.
may
One of the Moravian Missionaries I met later, tola:
me that this cross had been found carved on stone's in the'
ruins of ancient Troy. Low it ever got there, I leave
to archaeologists to explain.
Stone's, however, do not alone bear testimony to the
Lama's handiwork; plose to the Pangong Lakes-I found the
skulls of Yak (a. species of wild cattle) engraved with the
strange devic'e.
Another, and the most usual praying machine is' the
(33.)


prayer wheel, whose every revolution counts as- a "Pater Pos-
ter" to the man who turns it. The practical Ladakhi has,
however, devised a scheme "by which he can save himself even
this slight manual labour; and wheels, immersed in little
mountain streams and turned by their current, send up equally
Valid prayers on behalf of the man who put them up. Small
flags, flapping to and fro in the wind answer the same pur-
pose.
We had traversed the rice-fields of Mulbekh for some
distanpe when we suddenly turned up a narrow side nullah on
our left, forming a striking contrast to the fertile valley
of Mulbekh itself. We were beginning the gradual ascent
to the Namik La Pass; and the suddenness of the absolute
change of scenery almost defies description. On each side
of us towered high, rugged cliffs, and through this narrow
gorge we passed from fields of waving green to a land of
death and stones.. That strange air of depression seemed
again to pervade all; unconsciously we lapsed into silence
ana hurried on to the summit of the pass in the hopes, of
seeing brighter lands^ beyond. Curious and fantastic were
the shapes of "many of the Knolls and peaks we passed by the
way, but not a flower nor a blade of grass afforded relief
(34.)


to the eye; tall was mud, earth, and. stone, making the
bright colours of Kharbu Valley all the more welcome, when
we reached it in the afternoon.
Kharbu is a long, straggling village and varied lit-
tle from the others we had seen. Long lines of manis,
numerous "low, flat-roofed houses and terraced rice-fields
were ,again the prominent features., SVom the roofs of the
houses silent Ladakhi men arid women gazed fixedly at us,
saluting us with the friendly "jule", as we went by. That
night I put up in the little village rest house and early
next morning we proceeded on our march to Khalsi,ar Khalatse
as the natives call it.
Just beyond the Karbu polo ground and high up on the
mountains lie the ruins of what once must have been a for-
midable mountain fastness. Its tumbled-down battlement's
and towers- presented a curious picture as they stood out
sharply against the clear blue sky' and looked as though in
silent contempt on the hovels of the non-fighting inhabitants
of the valley below. How far they are off it is well-nigh
impossible to say; the air is so rarified that the estima-
tion of heights and distances becomes, a matter of extreme
(35.)


difficulty, 'arid it nay take one an hour' to reach an object
which appears to be only a few hundred yards away.
About noon on this day, June 21st, we arrived at the
foot of the Fota Da Pass which according to my route map
is 15,446 feet above sea-level. During this march I had
occasion to notice the curious, ignorance of the.. Ladakhis
concerning all' things appertaining to their religion. Close
to a mani, we met a well-dressed, intelligent looking man
of whom I made inquiries about the stones and their inscrip-
tions. I was informed that the mani had been built by his
f el 'low- countrymen who feared that their territory would be
some day invaded by the powerful forces of China. Ee seemed
to regard the defeat of his own people as a foregone con-
clusion, and stated that the object of placing the stones
there was to gain time for the vanquished to escape, whilst
the victors stopped to puzzle out the meaning of the words
inscribed. Similarly, he added, his people wore pig-tails,
so that the Chinese invaders might think they were of their
own race, and consequently incline to mercy. It would be
difficult to imagine two more childish and ridiculout ideas,
(56.)


and.-had it not been for the extraordinary solemnity of the
man, I should have been convinced that he was trying "to
pull my leg." So serious, however, did he appear, that to
this day I cannot quite make up my mind whether he believed
his own tale or not.
On the far' side of the Fotu La Pass we .descended an-
other of those dry, gravelly ravines, and arrived at Lama-
yurn'fairly early in the afternoon. We had still a long
march before us that day, so transport ponies had to be
changed. As this would, occupy some time, I left Saibra in
charge and, after a light meal, took a hasty look at the
place. Lamayurn is certainly one of the most typical vil-
lages. Large number's of enormous chortens ,are everywhere
conspicuous; now grouped, closely together, now pe'rched. up
singly on the top of some high column of rock. Long lines
of manis extended along the valley; all around were the
quaint houses of the natives and high above all towered the
monastery. Want of space forbids me further to describe
this weird spot.
Marching off as soon as all was ready, we now
(37.)


descended .a narrow gorge, in which lay our path, until we
reached the banks of the Indus a little below Khalatse. At
one moment we were crawling laboriously up some steep in-
cline, five minutes later we were descending an equally
steep slope. In spite of the rushing mountain torrent
close at hand, the heat in the gorge was extreme. I think
this was one of the most trying marches we experienced. At
length we heard before us a low, rumbling sound; it grew
louder and louder as we approached. Yet another steep as-
cent, and another hundred yards along the dry, sandy path,
another corner to turn, then another end. another until, at
last, we saw before us the roaring waters of the mighty
Indus. The current is so rapid at this spot, that the
masses of mud,"stirred up from below, turn the water a deep
brown colour and thus detract from the general beauty of
the wild scenery. Nevertheless we sat down for some time,
to regard it and to rest our weary limbs, whilst the ponies
slowly continued the march to Khalsi.
The shadows were lengthening when we arose to com-
plete the last stage to our destination. After crossing
the river by a small suspension bridge, we passed through a
(38.)


weird, old. fort where a sentry, shouldering arms, asked for
my name. His concern about my personality was a mere
matter of form, and after scribbling my signature on a piece
of paper, which he promptly held upside down, we went on,
and entered Khalsi about six o'clock. After dinner I went
down to see the Moravian Missionary and his wife. They
received me very hospitably, and much of the information I
gained, about Ladakh, I owe to the great kindness of these
missionaries, both here and at Leh. They have an intimate
knowledge of the character and customs of the Ladakhis, and
are well versed in the literature and history of the strange
people aanongst whom they spend their lives. I obtained a
number of photographs from them, and also a most interesting
little book of ancient Ladakhi poems. At Leh they have a
well-arranged hospital, and, whilst some remain here to at-
tend to the sick brought in to them, others travel into
remote regions to bring relief to those who cannot face the
privations of a long and trying march. Numerous invalids-'
I subsequently saw testify to the value of the work cf these
Medical Missionaries. One day in a distant village on the
(39.)


borders of Chinese Tibet, the lambadar brought me his son
to "cure." He was a nice-looking lad of about fourteen,
and his father told me he had. been lame for several months.
The unfortunate boy's leg was no thicker than the arm of a
ten-year-old child, for its entire length from the ankle to
the top of the thigh, whilst inside the knee there was a
terrible abscess. I did all I could to persuade the 'lam-
badar to let me take the boy back to Leh with me; in spite
of every inducement, he steadfastly refused.
About 6.30 on the morning of June 22nd, we started
for Saspool, twenty-two and a half miles away; it was a
tiring march with little incident except that the strain of
these constant forced marches began to tell on various mem-
bers of my party. My bearer had a very bad cough and
showed symptoms of pleurisy, one coolie was unable to go on
and had to return to Srinagar, whilst my .dog's feet had be-
come so sore from running about on the sharp, hot stones,
that he had to be- carried the whole .day. On Saturday, the
23rd, we did the last thirty miles to Leh, the capital of
Western Tibet. After climbing up a steep, winding nullah
above Nemo, we got to some high, open ground., whence a
(40.)


splendid, view of the imposing Indus valley was obtainable.
Before us lay a' vast expanse of undulating ground, Sloping
gradually down to the river. Farther in the distance the
hills receded., only large spurs extending from the princi-
pal mountain ranges somewhere behind which lay the ancient
city of Leh, as yet entirely hid.d.en from view. On we went
over the dazzling sand, jjast one or two oases till we stood
at the foot of a high isolated rock on the top of which is
an ancient fort. Here the path turns to the left and opens
into a large stone-rcovered plain, snc. here we caught the
first glimpse of Leh itself. Out of green meadows and or-
chards rose first the humble houses of the lower city,above
these, on the higher ground, stood the royal palace, and
the monastery surrounded by chortens, and high above these
again towered the snow-clad mountains, their jagged, summits
standing out grandly against the clear .evening sky. It was
a magnificent sight, but several hot and dusty miles still
separated us from this El Dorado and by the time we turned.
Into >the old. city gate, we all felt we hud done a good day's
work.
(41.)


CLAPTEfi m.
Accustomed as we had been during the two hundred and
fifty odd miles of our march to lonely, narrow paths, the
change, after passing through the quaint gateway, was an
agreeable surprise. We stood at the end of a well-kept
street, several hundred yards in length, and,I should think
about thirty wide. On each side were numbers of open shops
where well-to-do merchants squatted over their wares in true
Oriental style. Trade was very brisk, and the cosmopolitan
throng of buyers and sellers, passing to and fro and in and
out was both interesting and picturesque. There was some-
thing familiar, too, in the scene before us, and yet, for a
moment or two, I could not make out why it seemed unnatural.
I had witnessed many' similar sights before in the .bazaars
of India and in the quaint old market squares of provincial
towns in France and Germany; but here again there was Some-
thing unreal, something strange, as though this land had
ma,de up its mind that we were not to feel quite at home in
any corner of it. Not till I looked at the ground did I
notice the cause of the .difference between my present
(42.)


surrounding's and those former ones recalled to memory. It
was the silence. Instead of stumbling along over rough
cobble-stones we were wa.lking on smooth, white sand, and
instead of being overtaken by a springless, noisy, market-
gardener's cart, my tired little baggage-ponies passed me
with no other sound but the crunching of their feet and the
faint rattle of one of my cooking pots buried amongst my
other belongings. At the further end of the Bazaar, as
this principal street is called, we turned into a narrow al-
ley, and finally reached a small field immediately below the
ancient palace. Here I pitched my camp. The following
day was a Sunday, so I decided to rest, attend, to some mail
letters I had received, check my stores ana have a quiet
look round. After a late or so-called"European morning" in
bed, I sauntered out to have a closer look at the old town
and the European Quarter. Leh is perhaps one of the most
cosmopolitan cities in the world. Situated, as it is about
half way' bet ween the Indian and Central Asian markets, it is
:ah important trading centre, a kind of half-way house be-
tween. the great Indian Peninsula and the wild regions of
Turkestan, Chinese Tibet and Bokhara. After their long
(43.)


and difficult marches, the merchants from "ohe North exchange
their caravan loads of goods with those brought up from the
South, ana in this primitive manner is maintained the trade
between these distant lands. This powerful civilising in-
fluence of commerce has produced good results in Leh, for.
here there appears to be none of that religious intolerance
or race hatred, which one might have expected in so cosmo-
politan a community. The people seem to have rubbed off
each other's corners; it is a case of live ana let live, ana
intermarriages of all kinds are, I believe, frequent. The
Ladakhis themselves, of course, practice polyandry, -a cus-
tom which, though certainly opposed to our ideas, is
'nevertheless well suited to them and their country,in which
sufficient could never be grown to feed, a large and increas-
ing population. A Ladakhi woman may have as many as three
husband.s of whom the eldest is the principal one, whilst the
younger two are, as it were, und.er-studies or minor spouses
of the lady. Another form of matrimony is that known as
Magpa wedlock. In this case a well-to-do Ladakhi woman
selects any one man as her husband; he is generally a poof
(44.)


younger son of a family and, although permitted to enjoy
his wife's property, this remains her own, and she is rat
liberty to turn out her consort for good, should she feel
so disposed.
Taking all these facts into consideration, I came to
the conclusion that, from a. man's point of view, matrimony
in Ladakh was certainly undesirable.
In the shops of the Bazaar all manner of things were
displayed, but they seemed to me to vary little from the
goods sold in native shops in India. I imagine that all
articles of value to Europeans are passed on by barter to
larger markets; it cannot be -worth the trader's while to
trouble about the few travellers who annually visit Leh.
There is only one shop where European stores can be pur-
chased. I did not notice anything of particular interest
with the exception, perhaps, of some curious metal tobacco
pipes. The stem measured about eight or nine inches,while
the bowl was little larger than a thimble. Whether this
bowl was lined in any way', I "never found out; I had fully
intended to purchase a few of these and other similar odds
and ends, but I decided to wait till I came back a de-
cision which I later had good reason to regret.
(45.)


Leaving the shops, I went off towards the European
quarter where were the Dak Bungalow, the houses and the
hospital of the missionaries, and beyond them the Residency
of the British Joint Commissioner, Captain Kennion of the
Indian Political Department. The Residency is situated in
a prettily wooded compound on the outskirts of the town and
no doubt forms a pleasant dwelling plaqe during the short
summer months, and during the long and severe winter, none
but the missionaries remain. The mountain tracks become
absolutely impassable for all trade caravans and thus Cap-
tain Kennion's useful work in Leh itself is, for the time
being, interrupted. The missionary bungalows are within
a stone's throw of the little hospital, where help is freely
given to many a suffering Ladakhi. The Rev. ----- Ribbach
and Dr. Shaw were the two principal missionaries in charge,
when I was in Ladakh.
It appears that the rough, bracing climate of this
great plateau is not so congenial to European constitutions
as might be supposed; the air is too rarified at these
great altitudes, and the extreme variations of temperature
(46.)


are very trying. In the little European cemetery are the
graves of two travellers who died before they were able to
get down to lower elevations; they were, I believe, the
first white men laid to rest here, but since their deaths,
other graves have unfortunately been added, I was told
that no white child had ever grown up in Ladakh; Mr. Rib-
bach's little daughter had alone attained the .age fo six
and. she was on one point of leaving for Europe when I saw
her. The climate of Ladakh is one peculiar to its people,
who would also soon succumb were they to emigrate to the
plains of India, or to other low-lying countries. Several
of my servants suffered more or less severely from unavoid-
able exposure and the poorness of the atmosphere; ray own
health,I was glad to find, remained unimpaired throughout
and, although later in Changchenmo my camps were frequently
pitched at 16,000 feet above the sea, I was always able to
sleep soundly arid, never once suffered from mountain sickness,
I abstained entirely from smoking, and took no alcoholic,
liquor of any kind., but beyond these two precautions, taken
principally on account of the stiff climbs during which my
(47.)


lungs had to work hard, a,11 I did was to protect myself as
thoroughly as possible against the fierce rays of the sun
by day and the extreme cold by night.
Returning to camp, I spent the rest of Sunday ;ana
the whole of the next day over letters, papers, and what
further arrangement's I considered necessary. I was now
going into regions where provisions of any kind would be
quite unprocurable; not even rice, flour or eggs could be
bought, and beyond Tankse about four marches away, I should
have to take my own milk supply in the shape of a herd of
goats. I expected to be out in the wilds about seven or
eight weeks and erplenished my larder accordingly.
I had pome to the conclusion that it would be unwise
to take either my bearer of my dog any further, so,early on
June 26th, I marched out of Leh without them, bound for
Chimr.ay, twenty-five mile's away. For the first hour or so
I followed a path across a rough, stony plain, then, after
skirting the edge of a high rocky spur, I entered one of
those fertile valleys which form so striking a contrast to
the rest of the country. Acres of waving corn-fields and
green pastures lay in a long, narrow strip before me and
(48.)


shady gardens were dotted here and there amongst the vil-
lages. On my left the mountains rose abruptly at no
great .distance, and on the lower salients stoo.d the ruins
of many an ancient lamasery or Buddhist cloister. On my
right flowed the River Indus from whose bank the ground
sloped gently upwards towards the distant hills, separated
from the torrent by a va,st, undulating waste. The Indus
Valley above Leh is a wonderful sight and well repays the
traveller after many a weary' march; like the whole of this
strange land it is full of surprises. After winding for
miles through fields and gardens, over dykes 'and streams,we
suddenly found ourselves on a. patch of white sand, which
might have been brought here from the deserts of Egypt, and
deposited as a penance by some pious lama, instead of the
usual carved stones arid horns. Then we would wend our ?yay
through a narrow village street apparently familiar, with
its- flat-roofed houses, its fluttering player flags, and
its pigtailed, gazing inhabitants, but the next turn would
bring us face to face with, a "regular cemetery of manis and
cliortens a single stride had brought us from the land of
the living to that of the dead.
(49.)


At about four o'clock we arrived at Chimray, a flour-
ishing village situated up- a narrow side valley at the foot
of the steep ascent leading to the Chang La, (La being the
Tibetan word for Pass). Whilst my camp was being pitched,
I received a visit from three lamas, who came to welcome me.
We were unable to converse, but signs did what words could
not. Before leaving they presented me with a large jug of
"chung" or native beer .and some of those peculiar pastel
sticks which, when burned, diffuse a pleasant odour. They
are often sold in London shops and will be known to most
Europeans, but these the Lama's gave me were wrapped in a
species of white muslin, so frail in texture, that it fell to
pieces at the least touch. I gave the men a little bak-
sheesh and we parted the best of friends.
Early the next morning we commenced the steep ascent
to Zingral, a small plateau at the foot of the Chang La;
here we intended to camp before crossing the pass next day.
The pla.te.au is faced on one side by a kind of retaining wall
which:.is, I believe, part of some ancient fortifications. It
is at an .elevation of about 16,000 feet, whilst the Chang
La itself is just under'18,400 feet in height. Towards
evening it began to get very cold; a bitterly sharp wind.
(50.)


swept down from the pass, and the servants all huddled to-
gether for warmth in one little tent. Our start on the
morning of the 28th June was an early one, it being essen-
tial to cross the snows before the rays of the sun had time
to melt their surface. For the first hour or two we
climbed slowly up a tortuous path; it was rough going for
the animals and the cold was extreme. One of the Kashmiris
complained of mountain-sickness and for the rest of the day
the poor fellow dragged .himself along looking very miserAble
indeed. On reaching the snow we were able to step out
more briskly but not without caution. It was very slippery
and how the ponies kept on their legs was a puzzle to me;
it was certainly more than some of the men could do, and
the unfortunate cook in teying to cross ,a little frozen
stream, fell on his back, broke through the .ice and got a
good wetting in consequence. We hah left camp at five o'
clock .and none too early; when we got to the watershed and
before we had reached the far edge of the "snowy area, the
ponies were constantly sinking in to the snow well above
(5Cfc.)


the hocks.
The yaks, of which we now had three with us, exper-
ienced less difficulty over snow than the ponies, but on
all other ground we found the latter infinitely more pre-
ferable. The descent from Chang La is very gradual as far
as Durga, and thence to Tankse the path is almost level "run-
ning as it does' along the bottom of the Tankse valley. It
was here, during the heat of the afternoon, that the Yaks
failed us entirely; one of them broke down altogether about
two miles from Tankse, so we had to leave him to follow oh
later and carry his load ourselves. We pitched camp in a
little bagh, at Tankse about, five o'clock; all fairly tired
out after a trying twelve hours' inarch.


CHAPTER IV.
As the question of transport is one of such vital im-
portance to all travellers in these somewhat out of the way-
regions, I think it would, he well at this stage to record,
the conclusions I came to on this point ah a guide to others
who might he tempted, to visit the Same countries at the
same time of the year as myself. My remarks are based
solely on my own experiences and those of the few travellers
I met, during the months of June and July of a fairly normal
year.
No regular pack saddles are used in Ladakh; the ani-
mals' backs are protected by means of a rough cloth .pad. or
simply by coarse fold.ed sacking being spread over them.
Above this moderately sift covering is placed a rough wooden
saddle frame with a wooden arch front and rear and. connect-
ing vjieces "running parallel to the animal's sic.es. To this
frame the loads are lashed by means of coarse native "ropes.
All loads must, of course, be as evenly balanced as possible
before beginning to march and this,with tents, bedding,etc.,
is at first a matter of no small difficulty. For the car-
(53.)


riage of bedding I should recommend the use of a large Wil-
lie sden-canvas bag, such a.s can be obtained from the Army
and Navy Stores at no great cost. The bag I used measured
3 feet, 3 inches in height and was cylindrical in shape,the
diameter of the base measuring 17 or 18 inches. Plenty of
warm blankets should be taken and although a Wolsley
valise might do well, a regular camp- bed or a collapsible
native charpoy, standing about a foot off the ground, is
almost a necessity on account of the extreme cola; a'thick
resai or some form of light mattress is also essential. A
sixty or eighty pound tent is the best to use but it must
be a double-fly.
Small articles, such as stores, etc., are carried
either in kiltas or yakdans, and, for animal transport,I am
convinced that the latter have many advantage's over the for-
mer. Yakdansare light,leather-covered, "metal-bound boxes
measuring about two feet in length,eighteen inches in width
and fifteen inches in depth. Two yakdans generally go to
make a load; they are connected-by straps and are hung one
on each side of an animal's back. The load for one pony
(54.)


or yak should vary from a maund to 100 lbs., but must not
be more .except for short, easy marches. KiltaS are leather
covered baskets, shaped like ah egg with both ends chopped
off; a leather-covered lid closes the top. One kilta will
generally be quite enough for a coolie to carry if only by
reason of its shape. A pony or yak will carry three, one
on each side and one on top, but they are difficult to load
up and the fastenings, generally of poor manufacture, are
liable to give way at any moment and it is not pleasant to
see one1s tins of potted meat go bounding down 'a mountain
side, and the pony, scared out of its wit's by the clattering
of tins, the shouts of the Laiakhis and possibly also by a
few mild remarks from an irate Sahib, then starts galloping
along the narrow path, shedding more priceless treasures in
its wild flight.
A poshteen, or long sheep s skin coat Is ,a good thing
to sleep in, but would, I imagine, be much too heavy to
march in for any length of time. A thick jackal-skin
waistcoat did me most excellent service.
In comparing yaks and ponies as transport animals, I
consider that, for all inarches up to Chimray, the latter
(55.)


are much the "better of the two. Indeed few yaks will be
met with, below Leh. Merchants often bring them as- far" as
Srinagar, but to them time is not the same value a.s it is'
to the wandering subaltern on a few months' leave. The
little hill ponies, supplied by the village lambadars are
very wiry", there is no really difficult ground and grass is
always plentiful at all halting places. Beyond the Chang
La, grass becomes more scarce but ponies could quite well
be taken as far as Tankse or even Phobrang, a few miles be-
yond the north-west corner of the Pangong Lake. Higher dp
than thi:s, in Changchenmo .proper, yak's must be used for
most marches, more particularly because here the natives ap-
pear unwilling to part with their ponies for any length of
time.. The principal drawbacks to yaks are their extremely
slow rate of marching, which is often not more than a mile
in half an hour, and their inability to stand great heat.
They will carry about the same weight =as a pony but I found
it advisable to give them less. In appearance these yaks,
though smaller, are not unlike Scotch cattle. They are
high in front and carry long, shaggy, black coats, whilst
(56.)


their thick, bushy tails are particularly noticeable. I
believe mules would make the best transport animals and I
am sure arrangements could be made for obtaining them, but
I know no ordinary sportsman or traveller who has ever
given them a trial. Tibetan merchants use them largely,
and I saw many fine-looking animals in their caravans as
they passed by with their jungling bells, soon leaving my
little amateur column far behind.
(57)


CHAPTER V.
We left Tanks.e early on June 29th, for the Tseah Tso,
a small pond sixteen miles further on. My" transport ani-
mals now numbered six yaks and one pony, whilst a herd of
seven goats were to "supply us with milk for the next few
days. As we had plenty of time, Saibra, two of the coolies
and myself loitered along by the side of a little stream,
ana amused ourselves by catching fish. Saibra was an adept
at the game; he pulled them out of a.ll sorts of places
with his hands or stabbed them with his stick, as though he
could see exactly where they were, through stones, mud and
overhanging banks. In a comparatively short timewe caught
thirty-four, the largest of which mea.sured quite fifteen in.
and with this welcome addition to our provisions, we fol-
lowed the baggage into camp.
Late in the afternoon, Saibra .discovered a herd of
Burhel high up the mountain side on the left of the valley".
A long, tiring climb brought us sufficiently near to themto
observe their movements fairly well but as no ram could be
discovered we turned back empty handed and soon retired for
(58.)


3, good night's rest before our inarch to Phobrang, a few
miles beyond the north-west corner of the .Pangong Lake.
This enormous sheet of water consists really of
several lakes, ana extends for a distance of about ninety
miles from Lukung past Rudok, well into Chinese Tibet.North
of its western portion lay the wilds of Changchenmo, which
were to be my final destination. The Pangong is :at an
elevation of nearly 14,000 feet above the sea, and, like
many of the Central Asian lakes, it is so salt that no ani-
mal of any kind can live in it.
It was indeed a, magnificent spectacle as it l'ay
stretched out before us in the stillness of the early mor-
ning. We stood at the entrance of a narrow valley and
from our feet extended a vast plain of smooth, white sand,
which cut the deep blue water in one sharp line. Par away
on the opposite bank lay first :a thin white streak of in-
crustatea salt; above this again the belt of sand, and higher
still rose the brown masses of the lower mountain ranges,
topped only by the snowy peaks, dazzling in brilliant white-
ness in the rays of the Ea,stern sun. All around 'was silence.
I had hurried on alone, the shrill long drawn 'whistle of the
(59.)


Ladakhis as they urged along the yaks was yet inaudible;not
the cry of a bird, not a breath of wind -disturbed the still-
ness of the scene. An air of supreme peace pervaded all,
it seemed almost sacrilege to have entered this land of
death and rest.
Suddenly, in the far'.distance, appeared a small black
speck, it was moving and I stared in wonder .as it rose slow-
ly to the crest of a low, sandy "ridge, then, for a moment
there was exposed to view the figure of a solitary horseman
which disappeared,
"Woh Chine ko jata hai" (he is going to China",said
a voice behind me; I looked round, it wa.s Saibra at my
elbow. He had come up unheard, his gaze had followed mine,
and he too had caught a 'momentary glimpse of this strange
wayfarer on tBie road to China. A long, low whistle floated
through the air, I hear.d the faint jingle of a bell and a
few notes of a wild Ladakhi song, the shaggy black head of
a yak appeared from behind the boulders and then we all
moved on together.
Some miles beyond the head of the lake we passed the
small village of Lukung and, finding a nioe grassy spot
close by we called a halt. Not far from us a number of
(60.)


wild looking Tibetans were in camp. They were squatting
quietly near their fires whilst a large number of sheep
were grazing all round. As we approached they showed no
sign of surprise and soon entered into friendly conversation
with us. One of their number was a Red Lama, so I took
the opportunity of carefully inspecting his praying-wheel
and sundry other curiosities about his person. Another man
was using a very peculiar spoon which greatly took my fancy
but, being the only one he possessed, he would not part with
it. It was made apparently of copper and measured about
fifteen inches in length. Inside the bowl was inlaid with
a curious silver figure. After buying a quantity of dried
apricots, we moved on to Phobrang, where -we arrived early
in the afternoon.
As Phobrang was the last inhabited place we were to
meet for some time, various arrangements regarding letters,
etc., had to be made. The lambadar was a good chap so we
came to terms' easily and next morning set out with suffic-
ient of everything to make us independent for some v/eeks.
Just before starting, I was informed that there was
another Sahib in camp about a mile further down the river.
Sending on my transport I rode down with Saibra to see him,
and found he hah just come from the very ground I was going


to. He said there were, many antelope about and. that I
ought to have no difficulty in getting a good bag, more par-
ticularly as there was' no other white man in the whole of
Changchenmo at the time. lie had had good luck in getting
his antelope quickly, but only the day before I met him he
had been unfortunate enough to miss no less than three Oves
Amnion not ten miles from Phobrang. He seemed much disap-
pointed and I was sorry for him though I must own to "having
felt a, thrill of pleasure at the thought that these magni-
ficent animals were left for me. To have gone after them
at once would have been quite useless; they would be mile's
'away amd my only chance lay in their returning to this
ground before I came through again on my way down country.
After wishing each other the best of good luck, we said
good-bye and I rode back to Phobrang to overtake my trans-
port animals on their way up the Marzemik Pass.
It was a bitterly cold morning and as T rode through
the village I saw another proof, if indeed one were needed,
of the extraordinary hardiness of these Ladakhis. Although
I was thickly clad the sharp wind was cutting me to the
bone and, as I sat shivering on my pony, I cast a longing
(62.)


glance at the ruddy glow of a small fire burning in one of
the wretched hovels and almost wished I could go and squat
down beside it. Suddenly, surprised at the sight of a
stranger, out rushed a small child, who, but for a little
red and blue necklace, had not a vestige of clothing of any
kind. There she stood in the path, sucking the end of her
thumb for all the v^rld like any baby in an English nursery.
She could not have been more than five or six, and her long
thick, black ha.ir stood out like a mop all round her funny
little head. As I passed her, she slowly' withdrew her
thumb and opened her mouth wide in astonishment, then, with
a little nod as though she had come to the conclusion that
after all I-was only .an ordinary mortal like herself, only
perhaps- a bit f^aded in colour, she replaced her thumb in
its wonted place, and walked back to the hut with as uncon-
cerned and philosophical a look a.s any lama could muster.
My transport animals had gone some distance before I
overtook them and soon afterwards as we wended our way
slowly along the rough track, snow and hail began to fall
heavily. Later in the day it cleared up, and I tried my
best to get a few shots at several hares, but it was quite
(S)


impossible to g£et even within two hundred yards of them. On
a, high hill about a mile or so from the path we saw the
first large herd of Kyang or Tibetan Wild Ass. Reaching
camp, about noon we spent the rest of the day quietly and re-
tired to bed early so as to be ready for our climb on the
following morning. The Marzemik Pass is 18,420 feet in
height and this night which we spent at its foot was, I be-
lieve, the coldest we experienced during the six weeks we
roamed about La.dakh and Changchemno. Not having a thermo-
meter with me I was unable to record the actual temperature
but, as the evening grew colder and colder, I began to pile
on more and more clothes until finally I was wearing every
article I had with me, excepting -a spare pair of boots which
I was unable to draw over my chuplies, and my sola topee.
I wore two complete tweed shooting suit's, a thick fur-lined
waistcoat, a woollen sweater and my faithful Kashmir hat
well' pulled down over my ears; besides all these, I had a
resai or native quilt, two thick blankets, and a rug, and
yet when I awoke in the morning I was shivering like ah
aspen leaf from head to foot. However, a large plate of
porridge and a very large mug full of tea and hot goat's
(64.)


milk soon put me right, and I marched off feeling very fit
indeed.
My menagerie now consisted of seven yaks, fourteen
goats and three sheep. Although the Pass was by no means
difficult our progress was very slow, owing principally to
the yaks, who, even on goo.d ground, could not do more than
two miles an hour. At Gunle, about ten miles beyond the
watershed, we halted and spent the rest of the day without
incident.
Early on July 3rd, we set out again and that day we
marched through what was, I think, quite the most depressing
stretch of country we had yet set eyes on. On each side of
us were again high, bare hills consisting of a mass of rock,
sand and shingle; excepting at a small oasis called Pamzal,
not a, bush nor a- tuft of grass was near, and during that
march I neither saw nor heard a single living thing,neither
man, beast nor bird, except those belonging to my own little
party. Our very camping ground that night seemed more
deadly than all previous' one's, and put a fitting full stop
to the la.st of the weary marches before I was at length to
fire my first shot. On the morrow I was to reach niy
ground after a journey lasting exactly three weeks and a
(65.)


day; deducting the ha.lt at Leh, we had inarched just twenty
days and had in that time traversed three hundred -and seven-
ty-nine miles of as strange and interesting -a country .as
any' man could ever wish to behoid.


CHAPTER VI.
At about five o'clock on the morning of the 4th July,
Sailor a, the Assistant Shikari, and I started off well before
the baggage. After marching for two hours and crossing
several rivers, we finally reached the mouth of the Nengri
Nullah and began our search for gaine. Snow had fallen
heavily during the night, and a thick white coat came well
down the slopes of all the higher hills. They looked pic-
turesque enough but to-day our thoughts were bent on other
things, and so, rather than admire the beauty of Nature,our
eyes wandered restlessly backwards and forwards across the
undulating stretches of sand and gravel before tus and up
and down the ranges bordering the valley on each side.
The silence was intense; nothing could be heard but
the faint crunching of our chuplies in the sand. Slowly we
strode up a long easy gradient and slowly we raised our
heads to look over the little ridge at the top. My hopes
rose high as there, "not two hundred yards away, appeared the
long, fawn-coloured back of some animal, but rapidly they
(67.)


they" sank again when, lifting my head higher, I saw, not a
handsome pair of horn's, but the long ears of a grazing Lyang.
Quite unaware of our presence, four or five of these sturdy
animals were feeding quietly together, whilst further in
the distance twenty or thirty more could be seen. Suddenly
one of those near us suspected something and with a snort
he pricked up his eers and angrily raised his head. He was
a fine-looking animal as he stood there, motionless for a
few seconds, drawn up to his full height in an attitude of
mingled defiance and alarm. Then with a squeal and a
series of kicks he was round like an eel and off at full
gallop to alarm his brethren. It was as though the "Assem-
bly" had. sounded, for, seeing him coming, the others closed
in at the trot and stood, as though at "Attention", to
receive his message. Having heard it, they formed a, semi-
circle and without a move 'stoo.d watching us intently for
fully a. minute. Suddenly line was formed, a short pause
ensued they might have been dressing by a flank and.
then off they went as fast as they could, lay legs to the
ground. For a quarter of a mile or more they went on,rais-
ing a cloud of dust and pebbles, then they wheeled, and went
(68.)


on again, a second and a third wheel followed till suddenly
they stood like a wall, in perfect alignment, facing us as
"before.
Often on the hazy marshes of Essex had I stood by
the foreshore watching hundreds of little ox-birds circling
and turning, rising and dropping as though guided by a
single hand; seconds only to these in their mancmvres were
the Kyang. Their accuracy was almost ludicrous; even the
Kaiser's much vaunted Guards could not have equalled them
i at "such a pace.
Pretty and interesting as these Kyang were, we were
not overjoyed to see them, knowing full well that not -a
single head of game ??ould remain within a mile of where they
had galloped in wild career. So we left them gazing and
went our way.
Carefully scanning the ground we wandered on for a
mile or more but not .a sign of anything could we see. At
last after a particularly long stare through my glasses,
Saibra pointed towards a distant spur where, after some lit-
tle difficulty I observed four animals. The distance was
too great for us to make out what they were, so, satisfied
(69.)


with having found "something", we wended our way carefully
towards them. The approach was very had. For many hun-
dreds of yards we had to advance over .a.lmost level ground,
where cover of any kind was'- quite unobtainable. Still full
of hope, we pushed on until we reached the foot of the spur
whence with the greatest care we moved towards", the spot
where the animals had been seen. Saibra, took the rifle, I
followed close .at his heels' and last came the Chota Shikari.
Crawling along on all fours we got "nearer and nearer till
at last Saibra .stopped and, taking off his turban, cautious-
ly peered over the edge of a. little plateau. After ,a
second or two he lowered himself and motioned to me to come
on. I tried hard to read his face, but his expression be-
tokened absolutely nothing and so I followed him in silence
as before. Once or twice .again we stopped till at last a
disappointed grunt told me that it was .all up. Where our
prey had. got to, it was impossible to say but they were
gone, so, after a short rest we moved on ;again, and for an-
other hour or more continued our vain search.
Early in the afternoon we got into somewhat different
ground. Low, coarse grass -covered ;a large portion of the
(70.)


valley 'and a high conical hill completely obstructed our
forward view. A trudge of about a, mile brought us more in-
to the open again and there on the green sward, at no great
distance from us, we discovered several antelope. They were
in a, bad position for :a stalk so we sat down and waited
patiently for a while. At last we saw one rather fine
buck, who was somewhat separated from the rest, disappear
over the crest of a hillock. This was exactly what we
wanted, so off we went after him. The hill like all
others around, was absolutely bare, so all ,due precautions
had to be taken in ca.se he should take it into his head to
return to the crest and have a look ba.ck. Saibra was an
pfLept at taking advantage of every little fold in the ground,
and atL length we arrived, undiscovered, just below the sum-
mit. Cautiously raising our heads, we now discovered two
fine buck a little on our right and a. tiring crawl in that
direction finally brought us to within about a hundred and
fifty yards of our game.
Setting my sight I raised myself slightly, selected,
one buck .and fired; down he came like a stone, the bullet
having gone right through his throat. The other buck went
(71.)


away at once, but I had time to send a few rounds after him
before he got too far. Saibra was of opinion that one of
them took effect, but I thought he must be wrong and turned
my' attention to the dead animal; as will be seen later, how-
ever Sa.ibra was right. The dead buck was a good one, his
horns measured 23-J-. inches, or l-§- inches above the average.
After the essential but unpleasant operationcf cleaning him
we went on and before we had walked .a. quarter of a mile,
Sa.ibra bobbed down and eagerly motioned to me to come to one
side. I did so, and again we advanced with the utmost
care, he, as usual, leading. As we neared the edge of a
small, steep knoll I too saw the reason for .Saibra's sudden
jump, for there, down in the valley before us, :about a hin-
'dred yards away, was another buck. As before I raised my-
self and fired, but, seeing dust rising beyond him, we
thought the bullet had gone over and I was' just going to
fire again, when he suddenly stretched out his hind..legs and
fell, a mass of blood gushing from a large wound in the
middle of his back. The bullet,as we discovered later,had
passed just under the spine, in fact, it had probably touch-
ed it. This, my second buck, was also a good one, one of
(72.)


his horns measured just under 23 inches, but the other had
a small piece broken off the top and this rather spoilt the
symmetry of the head.
That afternoon I got a few more running shots, but
failed to kill, so we returned to camp about 4.30 p.m.well
satisfied with our day's work and thinking it was over.
Here however, we were wrong, for I had not been in my tent
half an hour when Saibra came and told me that there wa.s
another buck on the mountain close by. Off we went again,
and having got within easy range without much difficulty, I
was just about to fire when the buck sprang to his feet 'and
galloped away. I let fly and my bullet shattered his near
fore absolutely to pieces; a second round brought him to a
halt. Both had been running shots and, although hard hit,
he still had plenty of life in him, so much so that when I
appro a,che d he ra.ised himself as well as he could, lowered
his head and made every effort to fight it out to the end.
After putting an 'end to him as rapidly as possible, I looked
at his wounds more closely. My first bullet had broken his
near fore in two, it hung only by the sinews and in these
the poor brute had hopelessly entangled his off hind. It
(73.)


was anything but a, pleasant sight and I could not but help
admiring the animal which, despite the agonies it must have
been suffering, still had the courage to turn on me. He
was a fine buck although his horns only measured 1&§- inches.
This -was at last the end of a long, tiring day and I
went back to my tent feeling Very happy and more than ready
for a. big dinner which I thoroughly enjoyed.
On the morrow we set out at about six o'clock, and
after an unsuccessful stalk on a mixed herd, I had the good
fortune to bring dorm 'a magnificent buck carrying 25 ^inch
horns. He was one of a herd of four, and my bullet had en-
tered his left flank and come out just behind the right
shoulder;'- he dropped absolutely dead..
Going further up the valley we stalked a few more
and I got one more shot which I missed. We had done a
stiff, rapid climb, no ea,sy matter at an elevation of six-
teen thousand feet, and when I finally knelt down to fire,
the end of my rifle wobbled about like a lamb's tail. I
rested it on Saibra's head, and did all else I could to
steady myself; it was quite useless, my heart beat like a
sledge hammer and the bullet sped harmlessly just under the
anima.l's neck. However, a 25 in. head was not a bad 'mor-
ning's work, so we returned to camp and after luncheon and
(74.)


-about an hour's rest, we set out again ,at noon. After 17aIk-
ing about in vain till four p.m.? we sat down and rested
"waiting for something to turn up" as Dickens says, and
whilst thus occupied or rather unoccupied, ray shikari dis-
covered a number of vultures high up. the mountain on the
other side of the valley. They were evidently gorging
themselves on something and as it was near the spot where I
had shot my first buck on the previous day Saibra suggested
that this might be the sepond one, which as I have already
stated, he said he thought I had hit as it was running away.
The idea was a good one, so we sent up the assistant shikari
to look. As I watched him through my field glasses going
up and. up towards the vultures, my excitement rose momentar-
ily and as he approached spot, it was almost as good as
stalking a first-class head. I knew that if he stopped
ana turned back, he had seen enough,, but he only seemed to
halt for breath and then go on again. At last I saw him
pick up a stone and throw it at the birds; they flew .away
and again he stopped, .apparently only twenty yards from that
little yellow speck which I had watched so carefully .as it
occasionally became visible through the gorging, squabbling
vultures. Then he went forward again for the last time;
(75.)


for a moment he stood, over the "spepk", then he turned it
over rand sat .down. By this time I was pretty well certain
that Saib'ra had been right and my last .doubt's were set at
rest, when -a quarter of an hour later, the man came down
with a pair of horns more massive than any' of the others I
had bagged. I compared them with my twenty-five inch ones
and they' were so much thicker round the base that I am sure
this would have almost been a record head had not unfortun-
ately the tops of both horns been broken off. As they were,
they measured 22-§- inches and I should, say, judging by their
thickness and taking into consideration the fact that both
horns were broken just above the uppermost "knot" (the long
smooth tips therefore being practically non-existent) they
must, before being broken, have measured at least 27 inches.
It was unfortunate to have them thus spoiled, but I had no
cause to grumble whatever happened, so I went back to camp,
again feeling very happy and ready for dinner, having now
got five buck out of the six allowed anywhere within British
Territory, by one licence.
Before closing this chapter perhaps' a few particulars
about the Tibetan Antelope would not be out of place. These
Tibetan Antelopes (Keinas Hoagsonii) are known by nearly all
(76.)


shikaris merely as "hiran", but as this only means "deer"
generally, the term is, to say the least of it, rather vague
The Ladakhi name is "chiru" or "choos". The Choos is
about the only kind of big game to be found in Changchenmo,
at this time of year. A good, buck stands- between thirty-
six and thirty-eight inches in height, he weighs between
eighty and ninety pounds, and averages twenty-two inches in
length of horn. The horns are dark, and at the points are
bent forward ana slightly inwards; the coat is more like
wool than hair, and at this time of year is quite useless
as it comas out at the least touch. The hide itself is
excessively thin ana tears easily. The -antelope's lot is
apparently not a happy one;, a species of parasite, :a worm
or maggot of some description lives under the skin and sets
up such irritation as to drive the unfortunate animal well-
nigh mad. I have examined the skin of an antelope and
have found it, .especially near the end of the spine, to be
perforated to .a most extfaor.dinary 'degree by this "keer'a"as
Saibra called it. The irritation seems to become particu-
larly violent after the sun has got well up and I have often
seen a choos in the distance suddenly spring up without any
(77.)


apparent cause, ;and rush frantically across the plain. Were
it'not for the horns, the Tibetan Antelope would be farfbom
handsome; the head itself is positively ugly. A large
snout with dilated nostrils and a pair of large goggle-eyes
are particularly noticeable, whilst one of the most' pecu-
liar features of all is the distance between the ears and
the seat of the horns. The latter are set right forward
and. grow straight up immediately above the eyes.
The only other species of game I saw during my first
two days in the Nengri Nullah, was. a young Ovis Amnion, not
more than two years old. We were resting opposite a narrow
gorge some four or five hundred yards away when the little
.animal trotted well out into the open, stood and stared at
us in surprise for several minutes ;ana then went quietly
back to its safe retreat.


CHAPTER VII.
I have already stated that in the year I visited La-
dakh and Changchenmo no sportsman was allowed to shoot more
than six Tibetan Antelope in these countries. A similar
limit is yearly fixed with regard to all game in and about
Kashmir and the advantages accruing from such a system are
manifold. In former days there was nothing to prevent an
unscrupulous sportsman though unworthy of the namefrom
shooting ,at every head he saw in the hopes of sometime or
other securing a good trophy, and many under-sized animals
were killed. Now, however, being limited to only a compar-
atively small number of bead's, men take care that these few
shall be as good as possible. I had shot five antelope
,and I was'determined to get my sixth by hook or crook. Our
experiences of the previous ^afternoon had clearly proved
that game was getting very, s.hy in the Nengri Nullah, so
Saibra and I decided that we would cross over into "Chinese
Tibet and complete the bag there, ancl then .advance into the
"Forbidden Land" until we were opposed and ordered to clear
(79.)


out. We were within a few miles of the actual "border-line;
a very low pass alone separating us from the Togbu Karbu
Nullah in Tibetan territory.
First thing in the morning we left camp; Saibra and
I preceding the baggage as usual. We had got to within a
mile of the actual border .and already I felt a mild form of
pleasurable excitement .at the prospect of entering .that
strange "No-man's Land", of which X had heard so many tales,
when we suddenly literally stumbled into a herd of grazing
antelope. I fired and a buck fell to my gun. His horns
only measured about eighteen inches but one of them was
curiously deformed; he was in a way an interesting trophy,
but many and many a time since I shot him, have I wished my
bullet ha,d gone wide of its mark.
Whilst we were skinning him we re-discussed the situ-
ation and re-considered our decision of the previous day. I
had shot my limit of antelope ana after some vacillation the
thought of more, of different trophies proved too strong
for me. My shikari instincts got the upper hand; I saw
enormous phantom heads before me and visions of the Qvis
Ammon my chance acquaintance ,at Phobrang had missed. Saibra
(80.)


assured me that in Tibet I might get antelope but that I
should not have time enough to go sufficiently fair for other
game, so, finally, I decided to turn back and try for Bur-
he 1 near the Pangong Lake.
I should be anticipating were I now to mention what
measure of success. I met with in their pursuit; suffice it
to say that, whatever that measure, I have never ceased to
regret the day when, on its very threshold, I turned my
back on one of the most mysterious countries- the world has
ever known. Po'rced marches back to Phobrang occupied my
"next four days, and during that time little of importance
occurred. At the foot of the Neng'ri Nullah I got a -couple
of Kya'ng. They can scarcely be called game, but they are
frequently shot on account of their feet which make very-
pretty inkstands, etc., and it would be well, indeed,if all
men shooting in these regions would expend a few round's in
keeping down their numbers. The rough, wild wastes of
Changchenmo are barren enough forsooth, and the Kyang eat
most of what little grass there is for other game. Neverthe-
less they have their use like all other things in the uni-
verse, and what we should have done without them I do not
(81.)


know. For days together their .dung wa,'s the only fuel we
could obtain.
As the two Kyang I had shot lay on the ground before
me I was able to examine them at leaisure and could nob help
thinking what fine, strong animals they were .and how useful
they would be could they only be broken in for transport
purposes. The Kyang stands-, I should say, about 14 hands,
he is fawn-coloured and wears a thick almost woolly coat.My
Laxiakhis were delighted when they heard I did not want the
skins, which they immediately took to make shoes .and cloth-
ing for themselves in winter. To the natives, the Kyang
is known as the "Jungli Chora" or wild horse, a!though I be-
lieve he does not in any way belong to the genus "Equus."
Much snow had evidently fallen in the mountains while
we were in the Nengri Nullah, the rivers were consequently
much swollen, and the crossing of at least one of these was
rather amusing or would have been to a spectator had there
been one ha^Ldy. As a, rule I had crossed .all rivers on the
back of some grimy but cheery Ladakhi, but this particular
stream was so deep and had so strong .a current that I had
to cross it riding on the biggest yak. After mounting it
(82.)


in as nearly the orthodox manner as circumstances would per-
mit, we made for the edge and there we stuck for .a while.
Many grunts, punchings, and I fear also a certain amount of
"language" from one and all of my staff of servants however,
at last prevailed and the old yak took to the water, ginger-
ly' enough, indeed, "but "by degrees he warmed to his work and
then he -pent forward with a vengeance. I had to hold on to
his pa,ck-saddle like grim death, and with my knees pretty
well up to my chin, my lower extremities well soaked, and
'my shikari hat well down over my face, I must have been a
sight to please the heart of any riding-master. However,
after many rolls and lurches we finally reached the opposite
"bank, and continued our march in safety, until we reached
Phobrang during the afternoon of July 9th. ;A careful
search of the Ovi's Amnion ground through which we had passed
revealed nothing "but a few fairly distinct spoors so we set
to and turned our attention seriously to burhel.
Early next morning we left the village and entered a
narrow gorge close by. Two and a half hours of steady la-
borious climbing at last brought us near the top of a very
high hill. There were many traces of burhel but, although
(83.)


we searched everything with the greatest care, we could not
find a single head. Suddenly my Ladakhi assistant shikari,
who had moved off a little to a flank, motioned to us to 'ap-
proach him. Following his signalled .directions we cane
to a steep precipice :and a careful glance over the edge of
this revealed no less than four male burhel lying .amongst
the grey stones on a little plateau some two hundred feet
below us. Crouching behind a convenient rock, I carefully
selected the biggest ram and fired; he sprang up from his
layer and then sank again in a pool of bloo.d. A second
bullet accounted for the next best head, and good heads they
3
were, both of them. The first measured no less than 2in.
in length and ten inches in girth, whilst the second was
23-i- by ten inches. My good luck wa,s almost absurd ana Sai-
bra could not get aver it. Burhel are no doubt more fre-
quently met with than most Himalayan big game, but few man
have the good fortune to get such heads as these two were,
even after infinitely more trouble and time than it had
taken me to get mine. Of course I had marched four hun-
dred miles from Srinagar" before firing my first shot, and
so had not got my trophies without a struggle, but still, as
(84.)


(85)


CHAPTER yill.
My shikari thought little more good could be done in
this nullah ana so he recommended moving along the Southern
shore of the Pangong Lake to Shooshal near the Pangoor"Tso','
or Pangoor Lake. I took his advice and the following dawn
again saw my restless little column en route; the small
village of Mang, nearly twenty miles away,, being our destin-
ation.
The scenery near the Pangong Lake is not in itself
beautiful, but there is a strange and inexplicable fascina-
tion about those weird and lonely shores. The Pangong is
itself a salt-lake ana, like all its surroundings, appears
to be slowly but surely dying; long, parallel white streaks,
,arid tide-marks on its stony banks, clearly show how year
by year it has receded, sinking steadily further and further
into the ground and, though the deep blue water still covers
en enormous area, I doubt whether many centuries will elapse
before the soft, white sand now encircling it entirely takes
its place.
(86.)


On "this white sancl iay camp was pitched., and. as- the
day wore on the burning sun sank like a flailing ball behind
the snow-capped mountains in the west. Behind me lay the
pea-ceful little village with its backgroundcf dark,frowning
rock. On the flat-roofed houses the si lent Ladakhis were
.dreaming of Nirvana and thin white columns of smoke rose
straight up into the still evening air until, after a short
Oriental twilight, darkness hung an impenetrable curtain
over all. Impenetrable? Yes, to a.ll save one; for slow-
ly but surely the silvery haze behind the distant mountains
grew in strength and one by one dispersed the lingering
shadows. Then, as the moon herself rose in full above the
snow-capped wall and ran her pallia rays along its., ragged-
edge, making the glistening peaks- and glaciers stand out
in brilliant whiteness against the still, .dark sky, it
see2nea as though a great and glorious sense of peace, a
foretaste of Nirvana, had come to all in this strange land
of dreams.
On the morrow we were up betimes and a couple of
hours after dawn the little village of Mang was hidden from
our view. Miles of deep soft sand lay stretched out be-


fore us and if ever I learnt the truth of "Nihil sine labor el,'
it was on this 12th of July, However, as all things come
to an end so did this tiring march, and after a few hours1
rest at Shoo'shal all our troubles were forgotten ana the
morning of the 13th again saw us ready for work, but in
which direction that work lay I am under a promise not to
reveal. When suggesting "burhel near the Pangong Lake',' Sai-
br'a had said he knew of two certain places but to one of
these he could take me only is I promised never to tell
any other Sahib, as he alone knew its whereabouts and would
suffer much loss were" other shikaris to find out about it.
I could not help smiling at his request and,needless to say,
I did. anything but believe his statement that he alone was
"in the know" about this ground and the magnificent herd of
burhel he declared it held. Later on, however, I thought
very differently, for I was convinced that the heads. I saw
there would not have remained long had more men known where
to find them. And why, after all, should there not, in
this wild land of mountains, be out-of-the-way corners un-
trodden by European feet and unseen by any white man's- eye?


I think it is E. F. Knight who, in his most interesting book
"Where Three Empires"Meet", gives credit to the rumour that
rich Lama, monasteries are hidden away in unknown fertile
valleys and thus escape the payment of all taxes and tithes
either in money or in kind.
Leaving Shooshal we made off to our new ground and,
after not many marches, our camp was pitched close to it.
On the morning after our arrival we set out in good
time, and .an. exceedingly stiff climb of about two hours-' du-
ration brought us to the summit of the nearest high mountain.
Here two fairly large, grassy plateaus one at a somewhat
greater elevation than the other were divided by a sharp
rocky ridge which was destined to play an important part in
my next few days' shikar. The higher plateau being nearer
camp, we ascended to it first, but, as a, most careful search
revealed nothing, we made our way towards the ridge in the
hopes of meeting with better luck beyond it.
Crawling up cautiously ^mong the boulders, we peered
over the edge. The plateau below was much more extensive
than the one we had just left and, sloping away towards the
(89.)


next chain of mountains, it ended in a steep ravine. Saibra
took my glasses and carefully scanned the grassy slopes.For
some time he sat motionless, then, slowly "raising his hand,
he pointed to a. spot far below us on our left .and there
after some little trouble, I too discerned a large flock of
burhel numbering, I should think, quite thirty head. They
were almost invisible to the naked eye, heavy clouds had
darkened the sky and a veil of mist made everything dim and
indistinct. Added to this the colour of the burhel them-
selves a kind of blue-grey, which has earned for them the
name of "The Blue Sheep of the Himalayas" rendered them
most inconspicuous amongst the like-tinted rocks. The flock
were in a bad place for a stalk so for some time we waited
to see whether they would move on to more favourable ground.
The black clouds rolled nearer and nearer and the windswept
by in long, dismal howls; snow began to fall, and as' the
storm increased in violence we crawled for shelter under a
large overhanging rock. How long we sat there I don't know,
but when it cleared, the sun's brilliant rays, streaming
through a gap in the dark masses overhead, plainly showed
(90.)


the whole flock still grazing as before but this time fur-
ther up the slope.
S.aibra now thought a successful stalk possible, so
climbing Gown from the narrow ridge we made a wide detour
and at length found ourselves crawling on all fours up the
little ravine we had. observed beyond the plateau. The burhel
were now above us and, but for almost imperceptible folds in
the ground, there was not a vestige of cover between our-
selves and them. But Saibra was a, marvel. Creeping,
panting and blowing, we zig-zagged nearer .and nearer to
where the herd had last been seen ana when we got to what
we thought must be within moderate range, we stopped a mo-
ment to regain our breadth. Then, taking off his pugree,
Saibra slowly rose and Z, lying flat on the ground beside
him, could only watch his face. His flashing eyes with the
look of a. wild animal in them, turned first towards the
spot where he expected to find his prey and then slowly fur-
ther and further away till at last they dropped. "Chella
gaya" he whispered as he crouched down beside me and I
thought that, for that day at a.ll .events, our chance was
(91.)


gone.
How we had "been discovered it was difficult to say,
but I scarcely think we had been seen. In these high moun-
tains the wind is most deceptive, and many a, sportsman owes
the loss of a, good head to its quaint and ever-varying an-
tics, to some wild gust which has suddenly betrayed his
whereabouts tc5 the keeb scent of the animal he has, perhaps
for hours on end, been doing his best to -approach.
The flock "had gone up the sloping pla.tea.u, so a,gain
we took up the pursuit, crawling, running and crouching
behind boulders as before; it was hard work indeed, but at
last my chance came for the whole flock, for some inexplic-
able reason, turned about and came straight towards us, two
fine rams leading the way. Fo"r some minutes we lay per-
fectly sti'll, scarce daring to breathe, Saibra curled up
like a ball in front of me with the barrel of my rifle rest-
ing on his shoulder. We had no real cover, a small ridge
about eighty yard's away, alone hid us from view and once
the leading burhel topped this' we must inevitably be seen
Slowly my eyes travelled right ana left along the
(92.)


little bank, watching for the least sign of a pair of those
boldly curved horns above its crest when suddenly, as though
sprung from a "Jack-in-the-box", the head of ah enormous
ram appeared right in front of us. For the fraction of a
second, both parties being evidently equally surprised, we
stared at each other; then, having aligned my sights on
him, I felt my finger tTwitch and that strange rush go thro'
me, which, like a parting prayer, seems to -accompany a,
speeding bullet. But I was too label As suddenly as he
had appeared, so suddenly, as though "switched off by an
electric current, he dropped behind the bank. We were
baulked again, but, thanks to Saibra, not for long. Instant-
ly perceiving what new move the flock would try, he sprang
to his feet with a, grunt, pointed up towards the ridge and
motioned to me to follow him as he fairly bounded across
the rough, stony ground. A terrible race followed! I
forgot the burhel and everything else in my frantic efforts
to keep up with that bounding, grey-cla'd figure before me
and I was- glad indeed when the man stopped and looked back
to see how far' I had got, I was not many yards behind him
and coming up to his side, I saw the whole flock again, now
(93.)


scampering wildly up the steep mountain-side. There was
little time for thought so, steadying myself as best I
could, I fired and missed. Sorely .disappointed I sal
down and spent the next ten minutes trying to regain my
breath. I had become fairly "cooked". We were at .an
elevation of .about 17,000 feet and what with that, the
roughness of the ground and the thick, heavy clothes neces-
sitated by the cold, I can safely say that even the toughest
"quarter-of-a-mile" I have ever had anything to do with was
not a patch on that wild rush.
We were not a very hopeful party when, at the expir-
ation of our brief rest, we recommenced crawling up the
steep slope towards, the ridge .after the flock once more and
to add to our discomfiture, fine driving snow began to fall.
Thicker -and thicker it fell the higher we rose, and things
indeed -seemed hopeless when, on nearing the ridge, Saibra,
who was leading as usual, bobbed down as though he had been
shot. I knew well what this meant, and in an instant I
was down on the ground beside him and ready to fire. There,
not a hundred yards away stood the whole flock of Burhel,
(94.)


cowering under the high rocks and seeking what shelter
they could from the cold wind and snow. .As regards, the
ground they again had the advantage and I believe they -saw
us immediately but it was not too late. The difficulty lay
in picking out the rams through the blinding snow and of
these again to pick out the best. Time after time I hesi-
tated for fear of killing a evie or a, small undersized ram.
Finally, through the curtain of hail, I caught a glimpse of
what looked like a big fine ram; crack went my rifle, .and.
a joyous "Laga, Sahib, laga." told me that this time at la.st
ray bullet had found its billet. The flock were now thorough-
ly well scared, and were bolting off in a.ll directions;. I
fired several more shots and hit two more burhel, one,how ever,
only received an apparently slight flesh-wound.
Climbing up the ridge we soon found the big ram lying
under a large overhanging boulder. He was hard hit and
was indeed a beauty, his horns measuring twenty-five inches
in length and eleven inches in girth round the base. His
fine, powerful neck was pitch-black in front and I should
have given much to have been able to bring away his hand-
some skin; but like the skins of the Tibetan Antelope,
(95.)


Full Text

PAGE 5

"r.TY FIRST SHOOT." By W.. F. Reichwe.ld, Lieu:t R.:f!.A

PAGE 6

As soon as my three months' l e a v e cane out in Orders I despatched my bea,rer Dobree Ram, my cook, my dog Gunner", and such heavy luggage as I thought I should not require, from here to Sr1riagaz'. I gave them a few days start so tha.t they might arrive there about the same time a s myself. U y leave was dated to commence on June 7th, and all that very hot da.y I was busily o ccupied "m aking bundobusts", Thos. e two words are full of meaning, a t least to me. They recall dust, thirst, perspiration, worries of all sorts,and last but not least, a protracted interview with that wily, but not invincible gentleman well known to the subalterns as the Battery "Sl1roff." Not until after midnight h a d I sha.ken off the hos t of "hangers-on", who h a d pursued me for hours, begging for b aksheesh, chits, and every other conceivable thing they thought might be of use to them, and I wa s glad indeed. when the 2. 06 a r.i. train, bound for Rawal Pindi, at l ast slid smoothly out of Ueerut railway station. D"irt and heat coL1bined to inake the journey to Pindi a s unplea.sant a.s most Indian ra.ilway journeys are. I w,as, however, t o o eagerly looking forward to my holiday to care much about discomforts and when, a t the end of t wenty-four hours, vre

PAGE 7

pulled up at our destination, my only thought .was to get on as fast as possible. ?zy next experience consisted in a drive of about a hundred and ninety-five miles in a tonga, a sort of two-wheeled pony cart. As this was cool, and quite a novel t;y to me, I already began to enjoy myself. The first stage was distinctly funny. Having preViously wired for a seat in the ua,il 'tonga, li 'ttle time was lost in getting under ;vay, and less a till I;; hen actually en route. We left Pindi S:tation at full gallop, ancl this pace, in spit,e of pitch darkness, vias kept up nearly all 'the way to Uurree, forty i;liles from Pindi, where we arrived .about 8 a.m. Our crew consisted of 'three; myself, the driver and ano-ther native whose sole duty apparently ccrisis't ed in flogging the ponies, and yelling and hooting at the top of his voice. In spite of all his noise, no doubt intended to warn other l'iayfarers be'time. s of our approach, vre nevertheless almost crashed in'to an ekka, or native pony-c-art, before we had gone a quarter of' a mile, and before daylight, I had become qui'te accustomed to close shaves with bullock cart.s, camels, and o-ther similar obstructions. All these li'tt,le in<:;idents were immediately preceded by wild yells on either side, followed by the choicest Hindustani epithets. (2)

PAGE 8

t ,he ponies we:ce thrashed and pulled all over the road, the camels were punched and smacked r ight and left, whilst the bullocks had their tails twis_ted in every possible direction. 'I'he latter system of' steerage, I may mention, i$. always ap plie
PAGE 9

baggage. F'or some time I
PAGE 10

some time), v1e strolled out to look for a house-boat for myNo sooner hs.d our intention become evicJ.ent, than we vrere surrounded by a veri table cri:md of "ualmjhies", or boatraen, anxious to let their cra:ft. A sui table boat was soon found, .and then w e returned to the bungalow for dinner. Early on UoncJ.ay, June llth, we again boarded our tonga, and .did our .. f'irial stage to Srinagar, (a.bout thirty oiles,)arrl!ring there about noon. We ha. d travelled s. hundred and ninety-five miles a.ll told, and ha.cJ. both ha. d enough tonga driving to 'la.st us for a ''lhile. We found. Srina.gar in a very fes-ti ve raood, the taking of Pretoria ha.ving been made the occa.sion for a gre.at fete. Sports t"(ere the attraction,:and, to judge by the noise made, the nil.tives certainly them. enjoyed Anxious to rest our SOJ;:tewhat shaken liJilbs we turned in early that evening. My companion expected his boat up early on the morrcivi and I ;ms looking forward to .another long day of making bundol:msts. Before retiring ho1ever, I spent an amusing quarter ofan holir, pursuing, with the aid of a siipper, many curious creeping and jumping things I fourid in my room. This my first bag augured well for the future, many noble anir.1al's were slain, amongst them two or three centipedes. The Iiak Bungalov r at, Srinagar is a (5)

PAGE 11

weird spot at tiwes. Tuesday, June 12th, a busy day, but I think on the whole a. useful one. Of course on a .Il shooting expedi-tions one of the most important items fs a good shikari, or na.tive sporting servant, and the services of such an one ere by no means easy to procure. ':i'he diff'iculty is not caused by scarcity of numbers, dozens of' inen .being alwa.ys a.vailable, but for a. beginner it fs a.lliiost iiapossible .to select a good man from a.mongst those who throng a.round hit:! presenting "chits" or certificates, efther genuine or other-wise, in whfch their praises are sung. The Oriental's love for a chit is proverbia.l, but whether the sahib attaches as much vs.lue to this form of testimonial as our Ari:an Brother ima .gines, I very much .doubt. Persona.lly, I do not attach the slightest value to a chit of any kind, unless I lmovT the a.lleged. vrri ter of it and ha.ve good rea.son for believing it to be genuine. Those..who, prorJpted by sympathy, give a servant a. better chit than he deserves woulcl. do well to consider the a.."l!loyance they often cause those .employers, who, relying on their recorillilendation, g 'ive tha.t servant work. As regards my shika.ri, however, I was certainly very lucky. A subaltern (l) of the Rifle Brigade recommended me ( 1). Capt. Sir J. Po1er killed,or died, in South Africa during the War. ( 6 )

PAGE 12

to eiaploy h{s me.n Saibra, with whom he ha,d just done a, very successful shoot; and never for one r.1oment have I regretted. te,king into my s.ervice this really excellent fellow. To this officer indeed, I owe e, .debt of gra,ti tud.e for the many useful hints he gave i:ue, hints vrhich did so much to guide me in me,king my -e,rrangements rega,rding "Orgi,nize,tion e.nd Equipment." In e .dditi.on to buying 8, sme,ll 60 lb. tent for myself' and two servants' tents, I laid in ,e, stock of' provisions including: J81ll(l2 pots). Baking powder. Tea (4 lbs.). Cornflour. Candles. Bar-soap. Tooth-powder. Se,lt. Uust,ard. Butter. Biscuits. Vase line. Brandy. Bovril. Curry-povider. Vinegar Pepper. I:atches, and, last but riot lea,st, cocoa. One doraestic article, however, I forgot and I lived sorely to regret the omission; the idea of ma,king insect powder pa,rt of lilY ba,gga,ge never entered my mind, but I should advise all future travellers in these regions to lay in a cons.id.erable stock. than once I was what be d.escribed as a "verminous person". As regards supplies of raeat_ -rice, milk e.nd flour I was inforraed that, at this se8,son1 I could rely" on the villages (7)

PAGE 13

through which :r.JY route passed and this inforraation proved .to be correct. Wednesday, June 13th, was the day on which I actua]Jy comr.1enced. ray journey; for, having :r.Js,de :r.JY final arrC\.Ilge.:.. quite es,rly that we shoved off ll:l:. about 7. 30 a,m. I say "shove d off" designedly because we did the firs.t fourteen :r.Jiles by boat to Gundarbal on the Sind River. Owing strong currents we did not arrive theretill nearly 3 p;:r.J,, by which time I had or less lost :r.JY t 'emper with the or I had ms,de known :r.JY intention of reaching KsJagua.i.:t (eleven from that de.y, but :r.JY servants 'had evid.entl'y decided that I should. not succeed. ctone in the d.il a .tory arid. not till I hacl. brought severe measures to bear-, cl.id things begin to to my liking. Pe,ddling down the canal through the old .Ci t;y of Srinagar was very interesting, though a t times distinctly me,lodorous, but1as a desc-ription of all I saw there would carry too far, I must ref.rain f'ro:r.J saying anything about this old town. At Gunderbal, as pre-ar-ranged, I met my transport-ponies, four in number. After weighing their lo.ads, we set off up the valley. Our baggage for myself anf five men, including tents, guns, ar,munition, etc., was just about five cwt., so we were enabled.totravel ( 8)

PAGE 14

f'a.irly ra.picHy. But hurry as we woulcl., w e vtere unable to escape the rain, which soon caue down upon us. He avy cloudl;> had been gathering overhead fo' r so.r.i.e time, and before long the servants were all ''re t through. To me the rain was not unwelcome; a long v;aterproof kept me as clxy as a bone, while I was a .ble to point out to my men, perhaps not without a little suppressed glee, that they had their 01m davrdling to blame for their present uncomfortable condition. I convinced. that the lesson they got that night, ancl. the fact tlia. t I wa. s a.ble to overcome their obstructions on the first day of' our journey, o .id much to aid me in g etting than along, wheri subsequently we c8-rriecl. out longer ancl. more difficult marches. We rea.ched K'angau:m rest-house about 8 p.m., snd whilst the rest of the servants were unloading .the snimals, Dobree and I went to the so-c'a.lled shop, and purchased eggs and rice for .dinner. Soon my becl. ws.s put up, which vrith can-o .les, .a clia.ir and a table, soon made my room l 'ook very comfortable. Gunner was very wet, so s.ft e r drying him I gave him a good f'eed, put on his coat, and tucked him up for the night; Before sitting down tq my meil .l, I discovered that I ( 9 )

PAGE 15

had forgotten to bring a chelumchee1 or Indian wash-ba.sin, so I 'had to make use of my pie-dish ,and this served me vrell till a coarse woo.den na.tive ba.sin wa.s a.ble to make good the deficiency, The next :r.10rning we left Kangaum at six, and cor.llnenced another double march via Goond to Gugangair,where we pitched our camp on a. nice grassy spot beneath some fine trees. The scenery all the vm.y up the Sind Va .lley, as far a:s Ba.lta.l, is remarkably beautiful, and ferns a striking contrast to the arid plateau beyond the Zojul.a: Pe$S, next ma.rch to Bil. l tal wa.s a tiring one, and our caJ-Jp Our that riight v1a.s swept by a. cold wind coming down from the pass. Heavy snow fell during the evening, and tvro other sahibs_ in camp near us predicted difficulties for our 'advance in the morning. Even at this time of the year it is impOSSible, O.VIing to the SnOV/1 to SCB. l e the narrOW path which winds its v.ra y up the abrupt mounta.in sicte, and the only vmy in which the pass can be crossed a : t all, is by as(Jending the narrow gorge down which the torrent rushes. 'I'he hard snow we trod formed a re;tural bridge, beneath which the wa.ter ha.d burrone
PAGE 16

reached a spot. they could. not. possibly pass Vas indeed at that moment., standing at. is practica.lly the entrance ga.t.e to that "Paristan" or :B'a.iryland beyond. In a. d .istance of little more than two r.tiles one rises to the height of 11,000 :feet, and leaving behind. the green vales ,and wooded slopes of the Sind Valley, the traveller sees before hir.t the ba.re hills of Ladakh. It. took us tbTee holirs and three quarters to rea.ch the watershed, when we began to d.escend the .ea.sy gradient down to r.retzehoy and thence on to r:ata,ya.n and Iira:s. :B'or a considera.ble distance the, Pass w a.s one mas s o:f sno. w and we ha.d to advance with care as the ponies f'r.equent.ly ( ll)

PAGE 17

sank in t.o it well above the hocks. snow and. hail began to ;fall heavily, and, a : s we approached. the liuts of Metzehoy, 'rain took t,heir place, making our onvnird. march anything but pleasant. About two :Giiles short of r,ra.tayan we were suddenly startled by a shrill, loud whistle, and instinctively both Gunner and. I stopped sho.rt, and looked_ round. in surprise. Tlie noise was quite close at hand, but not a thing s:ould either of' us see, which would give us a clue .as to what 1-,a.d caused it. A light touch on the shoulder from :GIY shiltari told me that eyes better trained. tlian mine had. coQe to our assistanc:;e, and following up the line indica.ted. by Sa.ibra' s finger, I notiqed' a. li-t;.tle black and tan head looking perkily over the top of a boulder. Gunner was still bewildered, for, standing only about one foot. nothing, he wa. s unable to see the :GiarQot' s head which just barely showed above the .stone; ha.d he seen it before I did, the ga.rae would. ha:ii'e been up; a. yap, a bSX:lr, and a dfrect frontal .attack, followed by the i=ediate disa.ppearance of' the Qa.rmot,woulrl have b een the inevitable result. 'Therefore, fearing that. his sporting ardour interfere with niy bag, I sent him on t.o f!latayan with the I remained behind (12)

PAGE 18

with $aibra and one other ms.n. A pea-rifle i s the most sporting s.nd smusing w e 'apon to use af'ter maxmot, but not having one of these v1i th rue, I resorted to 1zy 12 bore gun, a.nd. No. 4. shot. With the great.,_est care we crawled up towards the boulder behind which the m armot sat, and by taking cover behind stones and in folds of the at length got to within sixty yards. I fired, a.nd over he toppled; w e found him stone dead at the entra.nce of his burrow. I shot a second that day and wa.s unlucky enough to lose a third, which, though hax-d hit, scrambled away underground before I could get him. With a. shot gun, marmot a .re not difficult to hit, but actually bagging them is quite another ma.tter. As a. rule the hea.d only is visible, a.nd, unless kille. d outright, they sre almost certain to escape, a. second shot being out af the question. When crawling up to them, Saibra would keep close to me and when I raised my gun to fire, he would crouch by my side read.y to daxt forward as soon as he saw my finger move, to the marmot up before it h ad. time to s .cuttle away uncl .erground. So14etimes w e separated, s.nd while he a .pproa.ched. from one side, I _end.eavoured to get within range elsewhere. On these occs.sions he took care to expose (13)

PAGE 19

himself' s omewlta.t and thus distract the animal t s attention f"rom L:lyself'. This plan answered and several tiL:le s I got up close behind the motionles s little head, with its bright dark eyes ri\retted on .Sa.ibra and closely watch:lnghis every movement. I a ,f'terwards shot several L:lore marmot but did not again employ the L:lethod, it seemed to me like ta.:O.:ing too mean .a.n advantage of' such pretty little Sa.ibra 'told me tha.'t they are devoid' of' all sense o:f smell, and though I cannot quite believe this to be the c a.se, their sense of' smell 9ertainly does. not appear to be very acute, a,s w e frequently got very near them with the wind in our bcwks. Marmot are a species of' rodent, and in a .ppearance they somewhat resemble a. la.rge, rough-ha.ired guinea-pig, but they possess la.rge powerful f'eet or cla.ws with v;hich they can dig. I generally found them on grassy slopes or on spurs running out from the larger hills. There appear to be many vsi,rieties, for later, up in Changcl-.enao, I saw many dif'fering widely in s .ize an' d colour f'rom the black and tan spe9ies I shot near Ma.tayan. Darkness wa.s setting in when Saibra and I started off 'to Ma.tayan. Here we found the carJp pitched, and soon (14)

PAGE 20

a ,:fter a change into dry clothes and a gooo. mirm dinner, I was rea.dy :for bed. About, six. the riext morning, June 17th, Saibra and I marched out of' caJ'JP ahead of' the transport. 1-Ie had told rae there vwre more marmot a lit.tle further on, so I determined to add a f'ew mcire to my ba.g and without ml.lch trouble I sho.t f'our. Being anxious to push on as rapidly as possible, I decided that Ts.shgaun should be our next halting place. Colonel Ward's excellent little book "The Sportsman's Guide to Cashlilir and La.dakh" lays down the distance :from Lrata:Yan via Dras to 'I'ashga.un a : s being t.hirty-one miles, but I f'ancy it is not quite so much. The edition I possessect was an old one and,having been unable to procure a good map before leaving .!r.eerut, I could not find out exactly how f'ar we marched, but Saibra and I having gone o:ff' the road to get at the marmot, had certainly done a good thiity miles by the time we reached Tashgaun that evening. we overtook the baggage .animals and servants before they reached Dras where we were to change ponies. Jo::raerging from a narrow gorge we sa. w the little place with its qua.int old fort lying in a broad,undulating valley before us. On all sides were bare (15)

PAGE 21

barren hills, and1now that one's was less restricted, the dif'.ference betv;een Ladakh and Casl:mir became more accen tuated than ever. Whilst our itien were unloading and reloading the baggage animals, I strolled about looking at the DaX Bungalow and a few other objects. of interest. Ar.long t,hese I found two upright stones, apparently now used as gate posts, evidently of great antiquity; they were long and narrow and each had a curious human :figure carved upon it. The figures evidently represented deities of' some .sort. Later on during my wanderings I saw several similar monuraents, the raost striking of all being the large figure of' the Goddess Charaba. at .Uulbekl1 Before leaving Dras I despatched a few letters frora t,.he li tt1e post office. These offices were to be f'our:id all the way up to Leh end a regular daily postal service is carried on between that town and Srinagar The dak-runners ts.ke, if I reraember rightly, six days to do the two hundred and sixty mile: s and what a boon they con:fer on the lonely sportsr.u:m, only those can realise have watched their !Jail-coolie, perha.ps f'or 'an hour or raore, gradually coraing nearer and nearer up sorae long silent valley in Cha.ngcherirao {16)

PAGE 22

until at last he has :ttancled to them that precious little packet of letters and papers fro:L1 home Another nost excellent a.rrangenent has he en made with regard to transport animals. Right up a.s far as Tankse, the village or headsmen, supply these to travellers at the modest rate of eight to twelve onnas per stage for each anima,l. The rate's are fixed according to the length of each 1.1arch, and although the ponies are not worth much according to our ideas of horse-flesh, it is suri;:>rising how well they get over the with their loads. After purchasing a young, fat-looking sheep fcir the sum of Rs. l. 4. 0. ( i ) we off froi'l Dras. about noon. I found it nece$sa".ry to :L1ount my bearer Dobree and my cook Nanneh on ponies. The way they had lagged behind
PAGE 23

they could do, horsemanship was not_ in their line at all. cook was particularly unf'o.ri:.unate. Variou s acrobatic performances he had gone through in J:aounting,had caused. h:l.s pugree to come undone, &'ld whilst he was endeavour.fng to put it right again, his pony se:b off a.t a gallop across country. What actually occurred. r -don't know, but with the pugree streaming lU:e a pennant behind them, both :r-tanneh and the pony were ra,pidly disappearing in the chstance when suddenly a lo.v; mud wall put an end to their wild career. Both came to a dead stop, the pony on one side of the v(a.ll and the cook on the other. :B'or the next few miles things went smoothly enough, and r was congratulating myself on olir progress, v;hen the sheep began to get anno'ying. He pulled s.t his rope in all _possible directions, bUJ:aped into the c'oolie's legs time after tiJ:Je, and finally absolutely refused to pla:y any more. We we r e a.t length obliged to kill hiEl and load his caroase on to one of the ponies. 1 'he rest of tha.t day' s J7tarch was trying ; and r was. indeed glad when r reached the little grove at Ta.shgaun, and found another sahib there. lie was a J:Jedic-al student, (l) ( 1). Philipps. Leander Club. (18)

PAGE 24

returning froJ'l a. shoot. in the Vvardwan, C!.nd I think his friendly welcome and his large, cool wh{slrey and soda were the best. t.hing s of their }:ind I ha.d had for some time. After a good J'leal and a pleasant. SJ'loke and chat., we both t.urnedm, I had a sound sleep to prepare 11e for my next. 'day's march of twenty-six i:Ji1 es. This cl.ay was uninteresting one inasJ:auch .as we had' to walk along the water's edge down a narrov; stony ravine the whole way to Kargil. About. mid-day it. became so hot 1:.1\at. Gunner and I fell out. for a few hour's' rest in a small chu
PAGE 25

first time I l18.d a .tteJ;iptecl to :GJarch ariy considerable dista.nce in chuplies. 'l h ese chuplies are a kind of hob-nailed_ san-. dal secured to the foot by J
PAGE 26

2 :fresh supply can alv,ays be or<.J.ered up Srina.gar ar' 'Leh, v;hen one mfght ha.ve some. diff'icul ty in procuring a nev; pair of boots. cirass-shoes I never v;ore li!YSelf but I L1et several men carrying coils of grass rope which obliging"outfi tte.rs" in Srinagar had told them they would need, and which they ha.d afterwards found t,o be quite useless. Chup lie s with felt soles can be bought for use on snow, but they are suited for the rough, stony ground almost invs:riably 1:1et with in L adakh and Changchenma. At the time Europeans v'isit these countries, rain is seldom met with, but in wet weather, the chuplie,as generally sold,is not practicable because the. heel strap stretches ;and causes the foot to slide about on the sole. The defect could, no doubt, be counteracted to a considera-ble extent by the substitution of a strong canvas-tape heel-band. 1 he cow-hide sock should be kept well grea;sed in all weathers. If these few simple precautions.are taken, I a m convinced t:na:t once accustomed to the chuplie, few men will care to revert to any other foriil of boot or shoe.While on the question of ctress I may say that a large sola-topee or pith-hat, and blue or green goggles set in fine wire net(21)

PAGE 27

ting rims, are also a.bsolutely .essential o wing to the power of the .sun and the strong glare from the reflection of its ra.ys by the sand and stones. Soiae men w:ear "1 ungies", form of native hea:d-gear, but I do not consider them to be sufficiently reliable. Only when actually stalking did I discard filY sola-topee for the less conspicuous cloth hat, v;hich1 with a red or purple lining a.nd Kashmiri a favmcoloured pugree, I found to be quite safe for a short time. Early on th0 morning of June 19th, we left Kargil, determined to rea.ch Mulbekh, about twenty-four miles away, After crossing the river by a dil.apidated old bridge, we ascended a steep, bare, stony slope for some distance. The ma:rch was a, tedious one, though not without interest; looking back we could discern the green terraced fields of Kargil, stretching in a long, narroo'i strip along the footof' the mountains, whilst ahead. all mi.s barren, ru.gged, and broom, representing a. extraord.inary appearanc0, It see);Jed to me like 0nter:lng a veritable "valley of dry a regular land. of stones. Never have I seen .anything more grand, and. at thEJ same time, Iaore dEJsolate and dEJpressing. On either side were high, rockY hills, absolutely bare, not a bird was on the wing, except perhaps an ,occasional (22)

PAGE 28

s -tartl.ed frOiu soli!e crevice in that lilass of' silent stone,The very river along > appeared to have s -tored up all it$ reraaini!lg viti"l.lity till it got to this spot and then 'tl ha.ve shot it all out in one deterlilined ef'f'ort to give lif'e and strength to "Something" in this la.nd of death. I-Iigher up than the fields, ,as though afraid to intrude on even a square inch of' what might be turned into arable land, stood the f'lat-"roof'ed mud house:s of' the villagers. Large holes arid trenches showed where they had (23)

PAGE 29

been digging :for gold, which, in s i aa.ll quantities, is washed dov m by i:aany o:f these rivers. Interesting as this 171arch had been, it had e;;ercised such a strangely depressing influence over 171e, that I .was not sorry to e171erge at length into the broader -and core open valley between Sharg.ol and :ulbelr.h. As we a ,pproached the la,ttor the noise of pipes _and to171-tocs greeted us, and b efore long we were infor171ed that another sahib had arrived, and was in ca.mp on the polo ground dow n by the river bed. I found hiTJ to be an pfficer of' the Indian Civil Service, naraed Clarke, and again I had an unexpected, _and therefore doubly pleasant CQj;Jpanion. F'ar :froc being on the "rough-and-turable" like 171yself, he w a s travelling in an luxurious J'lanner; he ha, d several s pacious tents, accorapanied by quite a large retinue of servant' s almost and was and assistants who were helping him to arrange the "Settlecent"of LadEl.kh on which he was eraployed. U r Clarke r -eceived ce raost kindly, a.nd a welcome cup of tea, followed l ;ater by an excellent dinner, taught me to appreciate the raer' i ts of' at least one of his nU17ierous attendants. 'l'he natives had asked leave to have a tocasha in honour of the "Settlement Sahib" or "bundobust wallah", as (24)

PAGE 30

they call him, so, whilst we were at tea, a r.totley c:iowd of' men and women a.sser.tbled to dance a.nd play for our e _dif'ica-tion. The peculia.rity of' the pcrf'orma.ncewa.s e qualled only by the pec:Juliarities of' the perf'orr.ters themselves. 'l 'heir faces were distinctly of' the r.rongolian type and although their a1r,1ond eyes were not so pronounced as those of a China-man, their long flowing garments, their pig-tails, and. turn-ed-up shoes gave them a very Chinese look Their 1oo.se, coarse clothes entirely hid their figures, and .as they swa:Y'ed gently backlvards and :forwards to the st.ra.ins of the music, they certainly presented a strange picture. I was inf'orned that amongst theju. there were some of the noblest of' the land, but, whatever their social status may have been, they were the most plebeian-looking lot of' nobles I had ever beheld. Particularly noticeable was the head-c!Xess of' the wo11en. Their pitch-bla.ck hair hung in long tresses down the:lr backs, whilst :Large pieces of' black sheepskin 11f'astened to either side of their heads, so a.s to stand out at right angles and R.lmost completely conceal the e.ars. Passing :from the forehE)ad, .and sor.tetimes extending dom to their ankles, was the peyracke, or broad strip of' l.eather set with turquoise, whose -size and nUr.tber indicated the rank

PAGE 31

im6. we a.l th of the owner. The o.a,nce was followed by a, ga.r.Je of' polo, and this was really extremely funny. The ground, measuring about lOO ya.rds. by 40, was bounded on either side by a low stone w:a.ll on which sat the spectators. At one end there was an abrupt rise and at the other a sheer drop dom into the. gravelly river bed. A coupl:e of large stones at each end did duty for goal posts. The ponies, averaging about 12 hands, were an unkempt l_ot, and a.s they galloped -acrQss the ground, their long manes and tails fluttered in the breeze like so J;Ja.ny pennants. Sever,al of them were dead lame, but the Ladakhis .did not seem to worry about tri;li'les of that sort. Amidst good-natured jests. and laughter, the men took the field, and without more ado, co:r.:uaenced the gaJ;Je. There was no la.ck of' excitement, and it was marvellous to see the way they rushed over the ground in every direction, entirely ignoring a.ll rules as to "crossing", or going "off side", etg.. The teams num"Qered six or s _even a side, but these numbers varied continually; if any J;Ja.n felt so disposed he y;ould fall out, have a chat with some of the spec-tators, and join in again when ever he liked. Collisions with the side walls, and consequent spills were o:fl frequent {26)

PAGE 32

occurrence, but no one wa s hurt. If the ball happened to strike the 'lall, aJid thus go "in touch" one of the players I would ta.ke it up in his right hand and, galloping off full tilt in the direction of' the o pposite goal, he would cfrop it i'tnd strike it a.ga.in before it rea.ched the ground, ofte n in this way sending it high up into. the ,air. The sticks used were, I should say, about fourfeet in length and not unlike an inferior hockey stick, J:Jaking the many extra.ordin-ary strokes all the more reraarkable. I scarcely ever saw a man miss the ball; they seewed to be able to hit equally well all round their ponies. One man, better J:Jounted than the res:t, wa.s particularly aJ:Jusing. Ee was riding a very fast bay pony, and, being quite unable to control it in any way, he had evidently been told off' to play in goal so as not to endanger the lives of' the others. :[Iovering round the outskirts o:f the gaJ:Je, he waited patiently until the ball was. struck out froJ:J some scr"ir:u:aa.ge .and then, with a run before him, he ga.ve .a loud yell and swooped down on it like a thunderbolt, unable to stop his pony until it had_ scraJ:Jbled half' way up the steep "Qank behind one goal,or had tumbled down into the river bed behind the other. I saw (27)

PAGE 33

him repeat this opera.tion no less than five or six .times IUs play wa s perhaps not so good a s that o :E' the rest of the men, but to judge from the alacrity with .which they made way on he,aring his vra.rning r;ry, he must have exer-cised a considerable "moral effect" on his opponents. Another noticeable figure wa.s one of the old whose 'robes h a d evidently once been red b1.1.t had now turned a sort of piebald purple, whilst down the centr' e of' his back was a le.rge triangular grease-mark caused by the wagging of' his pig-tail. When polo was over, Ur. Clarke and I spent a pleasant evening tog'ether talking and swoking, and earlynex:t morning we parted co1rrpany, he to continue his Settlement work, and I to proc_eed on i-Jy ra"arch to :1\arbu.

PAGE 34

CHAPTER .li. we had now got. int.o t.he c_ountry of' t _hose strange peo ple, the Tibetan Buddhists At. Shergol, a village we had. passed on the previous day, we had seen t.he first or monastery, perched on what. looked like an alr.:tost. inbit. some weird. cheerles: s spot. Here he can di'ear.t of Nirvana, and silently contemplate the dispant peaks and the va.lleys far below hira. The Lar.tas are strange people in : a s-trange land. I fc,ar, when talking of Lada.kh, I shall often be obliged to use this adjective; I know of no other to describe the impression ra
PAGE 35

and again when regarding the scene around JJe, the clear blue sky, i:,he treeless heighi;.s, the bright green valleys, all in death-like silence, the words, "strange","weird", "unc
PAGE 36

Lil.&!a of' Tibet to despatch a political envo_ : t c o enter into clos-er and mare f'rfendly relations ith the ranisters of' the Czar, Wha.t, far-reaching results this apparently triv-ial occurrence may produce it as difficult to foretell, Russia's i'rnmediate motives 1aay also not be obvious, but c ertain it is tha, t .those set forth in the Press for the edification o-.r: the worldc can scarcely be taken as serious, The principa. l duty of' the LaJ;Jas lies in the perf'ort:Jance of all religious rites for the laity, who ther.J.selves lmow nothing of' their religion, and beyond. this I will refrain fro11 saying more about these curious r.J.onks than c =e to tJY personal notice. The subjects of' Bud disr.1 and Lat:Jaism haiJ;e been so ably treated by others, that it would be presUtJpt.i6n on L1Y part to poa.ch on their preserves in a narrative, which is, r.J.oreover, only intended to aeal experiences. Passing through the long straggling with village mm of' Mulbekh we came upon the huge figure of the Goddess Chat:Jba, hewn in strong relief' in the f\ace of an enomous boulder,ori the right of the road. As we continued our march, other curious r.1onuments in the shape on "chortens" and"L1anis'' t:Jet {31)

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our gaze. The are large pot-like receptacles in which are plaqed the ashes of holy Lamas and departed S aints; they are dotted a.ll along the valley and hillsides, singly or in groups, t.heir :peculiar, ornruaented t.ops, and t.he gaudy colour's with which t.hey are bedaubed, rendering t.hEm conspicuous amidst. t.heir sombre surroundings. In some of t.he villa.ges I visited lat.er I saw dozens of' a.ll shapes .and sizes, st.a.nding close t.ogei:,l1er. The J'lanis are long, stone built up wit.hout. or mort.ar. 'Ihey appeared t.o 1:1e to be somet.imes quit.e ha.lf' a in length, whilst. they measured fully fif teen feet in width and ten or twelve in l1eight. The top of' a. oa.ni slope s a.via.y on either side like the roof' of' a house a.nd is covered with innUJ;Jera.ble flat. st.one s from four or five inche' s t.o t.wo or three feet. square. Every single slab is engraved wi t.h a. qurious inscript.ion whose .words are 'to the Lada.khi what, 'the "Pa.ter Nost.er" i s to t.he RorJan Cath olic, "o mani patmi 11ooll1 O" --("Oh thou jewel in the_ Lotus oh"), are the words which in this st,range count.ry' are re peated, mechanically or otl1erwise, perhaps often than any other pra.ye;r' in tl1e Universe. The 1:1anis are, in fact, (:32)

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only one of the different praying r;Jachinesma.de use of by' the JJadakhfs, and to se:t the machine in motion, s,ll the devout Buddi.st he1.s to do is to. pass by on the left, wheh evecy stone sendsup on his behalf to the gods above, the prayers ins9ribed. on it. Thus whenever a mani is rea.ched the path bifurcates so as to accor;uaodate devotees cor.1ing from either direction. The slabs, with which the tops of the manis are tiled, are c.arved by pious Lc'Jaas who, I was given to understand, regard this work as a kind of penance. Many of the stones are ciecorated with the figures of the deities, and occasionally the Buddist cross be seen on them. One of' the I\!oravian Uissionci.ries I r.1et later, told: me that this cross had been found carved on stone' s in the' ruins of ancient TrOY Eow it ever got there, I leave to archaeologists to explain. Stone-s, however, do not alone bear testir.1ony to the Lama's handiwork; close t,o :the Pangong Lakes I found the skulls of' Yak (a. species of wild ca.ttle) engre,ved with the strange device. Another, and t,he i:aost usual pra,ying T.lachine Hr the {33)

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prayer ivheel, whose ever.y revolution counts as a "Pater Nos-ter" to the inan who turns it. The practical Ladakhi has, however, devis.ed a scherae by lVhich he can save hiraself' even this slight 1aanual labour; and wheels, iT.llllersed in little raountain stre8Jlls and turned by their current, send up equally valid pra.yers on behalf' of' the raan who put ther.J up. Sraall flags, flapping to and fro in the wind ansKer the sar.Je pur pose. We had traversed the rice-fields of' l 1ulbekh for sorae distance when we suddenly tlirned up a narrow side nullah on our left, f'orraing a striking contrast to the fertile valley of' Mulbekh itself'. We were beginning t.he to th,e 1-Tar.Jik La Pass; and the suddenness of' gradual ascent the absoiute 9hange o:f scenery alr.1ost cj_ef'ies desc.ription. On each sicie of' us towered high, 'rugged cliff's, and through this narrow gorge we pa.ssed f'rora fields of' waving green to a land of' death and stones. That strange air of' depression seemed again to pervade a.ll; unconsciously we lapse d into silence and hurried on to. the swami t of' the p flSS in the h-opes of' seeing brighter lands beyond. Curiou s and fantastic were the shapes of' iaany of' the Knolls and peaks we passed by the way, but not a f'lower nor a blade of' grass afforded relief' (34)

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to the e"ye; il.ll was mud, earth, and stone, making the br-ight colours .. of Kharbu Valley all the 1;1ore welcoue, when we reached it in the Kha.rbu is a long, straggling Village and varied lit-tle frOJ.< the others we had seen. Long lines of' manis, numerous low, flat-roofed houses and terroaced rice-fields were .again the prominent features the roof's of' the houses silent, Ladakhi men a.zid women gazed fixedly at lis, saluting us with the friendly "jule'', as we went by. That night I put up in the little village rest house and early next morning we proceeded on our marc:h to Kh alsi,ar' Khalats. e as the mi .t:lves ca.ll it. Just beyond the E:arbu polo ground .and high up on the mounta.ins lie the ruin s of' whs.t once T.lu.st ha.ve been a for-midable mountain fastness. Its tumbled-down battlements .and towers presented a curious pictur e a.s tl:J,ey stood out sharply against the cle.ar blue sky and looked as though in silent on the hovels of the non-fighting :inhabitantS of' the valley below. How f'ar they ar.e off' it is well-nigh ira:possible to say; the air is so rarified that the e .stimation of heights il.nd distances becomes. a Jaatter of extreme (35)

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di:ff'icul ty, anci it r.1ay take one an hour to reach an object which aiJ:peC1n peo[;le as a foregone conclusion, and stated that the object of' placing the stones there via s to g ain time for the vanquished to escape, vihilst the victor' s stopped to puzzle out the meaning of the .words inscribed. SiJailar1y, he added, his people wore pig-tails, so that the Chinese invaders might think they were of' their own race, and consequently incline to mercy. It would be diff'icul t to ilnag:fne t w o more chil.dish and ridiculout ideas, (36)

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'and had it not been for the extraordinary solei;mity of' the man, I should have been convinced that he was trying "to pull my leg." So serious, however, did he a:P1'ear, tha t to this day I cannot quite u>1 my mind whether he believed his own t ale or not. On the far side of' the Fotu La Pass we .descended another of' those dry, gravelly ravines, and arrived at Lama yurn fairly early in the afternoon. We had still a long m a,rch before us tha t day, so transport ponies had to be changed. As this would occupy some time, I left Saibra in cha.rge and, after a light meal, took a hasty look at the place. lages. Lamayurn is certainly one of the most typical vil Large numbers of chortens ,are everywhere conspicuous; now grouped closely together, now perched up singly on the top of' some high colw;m of rock. Long lines of' manis extended along the vall.ey; all arotind were the qu'aint houses of' the n atives and high above all tov;ere. d the monastery. Want of' space forbids me f'i.irther to de.scribe this weird spot,. o:f:f as-soon as all v-ras ready, v.;e now (37)

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descended a narrow gorge, in which lay otir path, until we the banks of' the Indus a li t:.tle below Khalatse. At one moment we were crawling laboriously up some steep cline, f'ive minutes lat,er we were ctescending an equally steep slope. In spite of' the rushing mounta.in torrent close a t hand, the heat. in the gorge was extreme. I think this was one of' the most trying marches we experie11ce.d. At length we henrd be:fore us a low rw;1bling sound; n. grew louder and louder as w e approached. Yet another steep cent, and another hundred yards along the dry, sandY path, another corner to turn, then another and another until, at l
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weird., old :fort where .a sentry, shouldering arms, asked :for my name. }lis concern about my p ersonali ty was a mere matter o:f form, and after scribbling my signat1.\re on -a piece of pa.per, which he promptly held 1.1pside down, we went on, and entered Khalsi about six o'clock. After dinner r went down to see the Horavian r.ussionary ,and his wife. They received me very hospitably, and much o:f the informa.tion I gained about Ladakh, I owe to the gr'es. t 1dndness of these missionaries, both here and at Leh. They h ave an intimate knowledge of' the character s.nd cu.stoms of' the Ladak:his, and are well versed il1 the literature and history of the strange people amongst whom t-hey spend their lives. I obtained a nmnber of' photographs from them, and a.lso a inos t :interesting little book of ancient Ladakhi poems. At Leh they have a well-arranged hospit-al, and, whilst some remain here to at-tend to the sick brought in to them, others t-ravel into remote regions to bring relief to those who ca.nnot f'ace the privations of a long and trying m arch. Nwnerous invalids I subse quently saw testify t,o the value of the work cr: these Medical Missionaries. One day in a distant village on the (39)

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borders of Chinese Tibet, the lambadar 1ne his son to He ;ya,s a niue-looking lad of about, :fourteen, and his f'a ,ther told me he had been lame :for several months. The unfortunate boy's leg vias no thicker than the arm o:f a t.en-year-ol. d child, for its entire length from the ankle to the top of the thigh, whilst inside the knee there was a terrible abscess. I did .all I could to persuade the lam-b .adar to let me take the boy ba.ck to Leh with me; in spite of every inducement, he steadfastly refused About 6. 30 on the ;norning of June 22nd, we started :for Saspool, twenty-two and a hal:f miles away; it was a tiring march wii;.h little incident except that the strain of' these constant :forced marches began to tell on various mell) bers of' my party. Uy be_ar.er had a very ba:C. cough and showed symptoms of' p],eurisy, one coolie mis unable to go on and hr.tcJ_ to return to Srinagar, whilst my ,d.og's :feet had become so sore from running about on the sharp, hot stones, tha,t he had to re carried the whole .c_ay. On Saturday, the 23rd, we .did the last thirty miles to Leh, the c,apital o:f Western Tibet. After clinibfng up a steep, winding null8h above Nemo, we got to :Some high, open grolind, whence a (40)

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splendid view of the imposing Indus valley was obtainable. Before us lay a vast expanse of undulating ground, sloping gradua,lly down to the river. :ii'arther in the distance the hills rece.ded, only large SP,urs extending :from the princi pal mountain ranges somewhere behind which l r w the ancient city of Leh, as yet entirely hidden from view. On w e went over the da.zzling sand, past one or two oases ti11 w e stood at the :foot of' a high iso1ated rock on the top of which is an ancient f'ort. fiere the path turns to the lef'i;. and opEns into a large stone;covered pla.fn,
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CHAP'l'ER III. Accust:-omed as we had been ciur.ing the two hundreci and. fifty o<.J. d miles of our march to lonely, narrow paths, the change, after passing through the quaint Wa.S an agreeable surprise. We stood at the end of' a. well-kept. street., several hundred yards in length, and,! should think about thirty wide. On each side were numbers of' open shops where well-to-.do merchants squatted over their wares in true Oriental style. Trade wa. s very hrisk, and the cosmopolit.en throng of' buyeTs .and sellers, passing to and :fTo and in. and out was both interesting and picturesque. There was some-thing familiar, too, in the scene before us, and yet, f'or a moment or two, I could not m2.ke out t ''ihy it seemed Unnatural. I had sitnessed ninny similar sights before in the .bazaars of' India and in the quaint. old market squares of' provincial towns in F'rance and Germany; but here again there rras something unreal, something strange, as though this land had ma.de up i t.s mind that we were not to feel quite at. home in any corner of' it. Not till I looked at the ground did I notice t,he cause of the .difference between present (42)

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surrotindings and those former ones recalled to memory. It vias the silence. Instead of stumbling along over rough cobble-stones we were wa.lking on smooth, whi:te sand, and instead of being overtaken by .a springless, noisy, ma:rket-gardener' s ca.rt, my tired little baggage-ponies passed me with no other sound but the crunching of their feet and the faint rattle of one o:f my cooking pots buried amongst my other belongings. At the further en. d o:f the Bazaar, as this .l)rincipal street i s called, He turned into a na.rrow a.lley, and finally reached a small field immediately below the 'ancient Here I pitched my camp. The fo 11 cno:ing day' was a Sunday, so I decided to rest, attend to soine mail letters I had received, check my stores and have a quiet look round,. After a la.t.e or so-called"European morning" in bed, I s.atintered out to have a closer look a.t the old tmm and the European Quarter. Leh is perhaps one of the most cosmopolit,an cities in the wqrld Situated as it is about half way between the Indian and Central Asian ina.rkets, it is :an important trading centre, a. kind of half-way house be tween the great Indian Pminsul; a and the wild regions of Turkestan, Chinese Tibet and Bokhara. After their lo'ng {43)

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.and diff'icul t marches, the merchants from -vhe North exchange their caravan loads of' goods with those brought up from the South, and in this primitiye manner is maintained the trade between these d.istant lands. This por;erful civilising in-f'luence of' .commerce has produced good results in Leh, f'or. here there appears to be none of' that religious intolerance or race hatred, which one might ha.ve ex.pected in so cosmo-The people seem to have rubbed of'f' politan ; a community each other!s corners; it is 8. c'a.se of' live a.nd let live,and intermarriages of all kinds are, I believe, frequent. The Ladakhis themselves, of course, prac.tic.e polyandry, a cus-tom which, though certe>.inly opposed to our ideas, is nevertheless well suited to them e>nd their country, in whi9h sufficient could never be grown to feeci. a large and incre.asing population. A Ladakhi woman may have .as many as three husbands of whom -vhe elo.est is the principa.l one, whifst the younger two 8 .re, as it "
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younger s on of' a family and, although permitted to enjoy his wife's property, this her own, and she is 'at liberty to tUrn out her consort for good, should she so disposed. feel Taking all these :facts into consideration, I came to the conclusion tha.t, from -rhere Europe"..n stores can be pur-chased. I did not notice .anything of particular interest with the exception, perhaps, Of' some curio].ls metal tobacco Jiipes. stem measured about eight or nine inches,while the bowl was little larger than a thimble. Whether this bowl was lined in any way, I never found out; I had fully intended to purchase a f'ew of' these and other similar odds and ends, but I decided to wait till I came back cision which I later had good reason to regret. (45) a de-

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Leaving the shops, I went of'f towa:rds the European quarter where were the Dak Bungalow, the houses and the hospital of the missicina.ries, and beyond them the Residency of the British Joint Commissioner, Captain Kennion of the !ndian Poli'tica l Department. The Residency is situated in a prettily wooded compoUnd on the outskirts of the term and no doubt f'orms a pleasant dwelling pl"ac,e d1.iring the short su;nmer months, anti Lturing the long and severe win'ber none but the missionaries remain. The mountain tra .cks become absolutely impassable for all trade caravans and thus Capt.ain Kerinio.n's useful work in Leh itself is, f'or the tiine being, interrupted. The missionary bungalows are within a stone's throw of the little hospital, '
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are very trying. :tn the little Europea n cemetery 0:re "the gra.ves of two tra.vellers who died before they Here able to get d own to lower elevations; they were, I 'Qelieve, the first_ white men la.id to rest here, but, since their deaths. other graves ha.ve un:fortuna.tely been added. I that no ';hi te child had ever grown up in Ladakh; was told ;:rr. Rib.:_ bach' s little da.ugh-t,e'r had alone attained the ,age :fo six and she on -uhe point of' leaving :for Europe when I sa;w her. The clima.te of L a.da.kh i s one peculiar to its people, who would also soon succum b were they "to emigrate to the p,la.ins of India, or to other low-lying countries. Several of my serv.ants suffered more or less severely from unavoida .ble exposure and the poorness of' the my own health, I was glad to find, rema.ined unimpaired throughout and, a l though later in Changchenmo lllY camps Here frequently pitched a t 16,000 :feet above the sea, I was ah;ays able to sleep soundly arid never once su:f:fered f'roin mounta.in siC!mess. I abstained entirely :from smoking, and took no liquor of' imy kind, but beyond these t w o precautions, taken principally on account of the stiff climbs during which mY (47}

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llings ha.o. to work hard, all I did was to :Protect myself as thoroughly -a. s possible against the fierce ra,ys of the sun by' day and the extreme cold by night. Returning to I spent the rest of Sunday ;and the whole of the next da.y over letters, papers, and what further r;r.rangements I considered nece-ssary. I rras now going into regions where :provisions of sny Jcind would be quite unprocurable; not even rice, flour or eggs could be ;-,olllght, and beyond Tankse about four ma.rches away, I should b,ave to take my own milk supply in the shape of a herd of goats. I expected to be out in the wilds about seven or eight week and erplenished my larder accordingly. I had come to the conclusion that it would be unwise to t ake eii;,her iny bearer or my dog any further, so, early on June 26th, I march,ed out of Leh without them, bound for Chimr.ay, twenty-five miles away. F'or the first hour or so I followed a Il.ath across a rough, stony plain, then, after skiri;.ing the edge of a high rocky spur, I entere.d one of those f'ertfle valleys which form so striking a. contrast to the rest of the colintry. Acres of w2wing corn-fields and green pastures in a long, narrow strip before me and (48)

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shady gardens were dotted here and there amongst the villB.ges. On i;JY left the mountains rose abruptly no great ,dista.t1ce, and on the lower salient.s Si:.OO.d t.he ruins of many an ancient. or Buddhist. cloister. On my right. t.he River Indus from whose bBnk t.he ground sloped gent.ly upHar.ds towards t.he distant hills, sep.arated from the torrent by a vast, undulB.'Ging waste. The Indus Valley above Leh is a rronderful sight Bnd well repa,ys t.he traveller after many a weary mBrch; like the whole of this st.rBnge land it is :full of' surprises. Af'ter winding for miles through fields and gardens, over dykes and strea.us, l'ie suddenly found ourselves on a pa.t9l:l of' sand, which Jnight have been brought here from the desert.s of' Egypt, and de:P,osi t.ed as a penance by' some pious lama, instead of' the usual carved stones .and horns. Then would wend our way through a narrow village street ,a.:lparently f'runiliar, with its f'l.a.t-roof'ed houses, its f'lutt.ering pr:ayer flags, and its pigtailed, ga.zing inhabit.ants, but t.he next t.urn would br:lng us face to face with B regular cemet.ery of' m
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At about four o'clock we arrived at Chimray, a flour ishing village situated up a narrow side valley at the foot of the steep ascent leading to the Chang La, (La being the Tibetcin word for !'ass). Whilst my camp was being pitched, I received a visit from thr-ee lamas, 1iho ci;Jne to welcome me. We unable to converse_, but signs .did what words could not. Before leaving they presented me with a. large jug of "chung" or "native beer ,and some of those peculiar pastel sticks which, ,-;hen burned, diff'us. e B. pleasant odour. They are o ften sold in London shops and will be knovm to most Europeans, but these t:he Lamas gave me were wr.apped in a species of white muslin, so frail in texture. that it fell to pieces at the least touc:;h. I gave the men a little bak-sheesh and ve parted the best of :friends. Early the next morning we cmru:uenced the steep as-cent to Zingra.l, a. small plateau Cl. t the :foot of the Chang La; here we intended to camp before crossing the pass next day. The plateau is :faced. on one side by a kind of reta.ining waJ.l whirt of' some ancient fortifications. It is at an.elev:ation of about 16,000 feet, whilst the Chang La itself is just under 18,400 feet in height. Towards evening it began to get very cold; a bitterly sharp wind (50)

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si1ept down from the pa.ss, and the servan.ts all huddled together for warmth in one little tent. Our on the morning o:t the 28th June was s n early one, it being ess-en tial to cross the snows before the r ays of' the sun ha.d time to melt their' surface. For the first hour or two we climbed slowly up a tOrtuou s path; it was rough going for the animals ancJ. the cold was extreme. One of the Kashmiris com:,:,lained of mountain-sickness ancJ for the rest of' the day the poor fellow dre.gge. d -himself along lookingvery inis.erEl.ble On reaching the snow we IYere ,able to step out more briskly but not without caution. .It was very slippery and how the ponies ke_p.t on their legs Has a :puzzle to me; it was cert.ainly inore than some o:f the men could do, a.nd the unfortunate cook in teying to cross .a. little frozen streoon, fell on his back, broke through the .ice and got a good wet,ting in consequence. We had left ca1;1p at five o' clock and none too e arly; ;-ihen we got to t,he n aters.hed and before we hctd reached the far edge of the snowy a.rea, the :Ponies were constantly sinking in to the snow well above (50!)

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the hocks. The yaks, of which we now had three with us, exper-ienced les s difficulty over snow thi m the 1 ;onies, but on all other ground w e found the l atter infinitely inore pre-ferable. The descent from Ch ang La is very gradual as far a s Durga, and thence to Tankse the path is almost level run ning a s it does' a .long the bott.om of the Tariks e v alley. It was here, during the heat of the afternoon, ti:iat the Yaks failed U:s entirely; one of t :tiein broke c''or m a togethe r about two miles from Tankse, so he had to leave him to follow oh. l8.ter and carry his load ourselves. we :pitched C 8 1 a p in a little b agh, 8.t Tankse about fi v.e o'clock; all fairly tired out a .fter a trying twelve hours' Jn8rch.

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CliAPTF.R IV. As the q_uestion of transport is one of such vits.l im porti3nce to 8.11 travellers in these out of' the way regions, I think it would be well s t this sts.ge to rec;ord the conclusions I came to on this point a s a guic.e to others who might be tempted to visit the si-une countries at the same time of the year as myself'. reraarks are based solely on my own experiences end t,hose of' the few trav'ellers I met, during the months of' June snd July of a fairly norinB.l year. No regular pack sac.dles are used in Ladakh; the ani backs are protected by means of a rough cloth p8,d or simply' by C08i'se folded Sacking being spread over them. Above this J;;oderately sift covering is plc;.ced. a rough wooden saddle frame with eo. wooden arch front and rear Bnd connecting pi.eces 'running to the s.nimB.l1 s sides. To this frsue the loc; .ds are lashed by Jaeans of coarse native ropes. All loa.ds must, of course, be as evenly balanced as possible before beginning to Jaarch end this, with tents, bedding, etc.' is a.t first a matter of no sma .ll difficulty. Fo r the car{53)

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rin.ge of' bedding I should recommend the use of e > large Wil lesden-canvas bag, such ;;>.s can be obtained f'rom the Ariey and Ua vy' Stores a t no great cost. The b a g I used 1neasured 3 f'eet, 3 inches in height and was cylindrical in shape,the dlameter of' the ba.se measuring 17 or 18 inches. Plenty of wa.rin bla.nltet' s should be taken and although a Wolsley valise might do well, a regula r camp bed cir a collapsible native char:;;oy, standing a.l:out a :foot o:f:f the groi.md, .is almost a necessity on account o:f the e xtreme cold; a.'"t.hick res'ai or some form of light ma.ttress is also essential. A sixty or eighty pound t.ent is the best to use but it must be a double-fly. Srna.ll 8rticles, such a s stores, etc., are carried either in kiltas or yakda.ns, .and, for animal trans:,Jort,I am convinced that the latter h ave many advantages over tl1e for-mer. Yali:dans a.re light, lea.ther..:covered, meta.l-bowld boxes measuring about two :feet in length,eighteen inches in width and fifteen inches in depth. Two yakdans generally go to ina.ke a loa.d; they are corlllected by stra>; s and ere hung one on each side o:f an animal's back. The loB.d f'or one pony (54)

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or y2. k should vary from a mau.nd to lOO 1 bs. but must not be more .except for short, e:;.sy marches. Kilts.s are leather covered baskets, sha:ped like a:n egg with both ends choppe-d of'f; a. leather-covered lid closes the top. One kilta will genera.lly be Quite enough for a. coolie to c
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a,re much the better o:f the two. Indeed rew yaks will be met with belol! Leh. !Jerchants often bring them as fa-r as Srinagar, but to theia tiiae is not the same value as it is to the wandering subaltern on a feu rJonths' lep.ve. The little hill ponies, supplied by the village lanba,dars are very wiry there is no really difficult ground a,nd grass is ahmfs plentiful at all h
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their thick, bushy ta.ils are particularly noticeable. I believe mules 1rould make the best transport animals and I am sure arrangements could l;le made for obtaining them, but I :r-.now no ordimiry sportsman o r traveller nho has ever given them a trial. Tibetan mer:.:;nants use them largely, and I saw many fine-looking animals in their caravans as they passed by with their jungling beLLs, soon le8.ving my little amateur column fi.r behind. (57)

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CHAPTER V. We left Tanks. e early cin June 29th, for the Tseah Tso, a SJ<1all l)Ond sixteen miles further on. Hy trimsport aniia<'l,ls now m.unbered six yaks and one pony, whilst. a herd of' seven goa.ts were to supply us with milk :for the next few d.a.ys As we had plenty o : f time, S s.ibra, two of' the :coolies ancl mys.elf loitered o.long by the sicle o:f e little stree.m, and 8I:lUSe6. ourselves by ce>:tching fish. S .ai br a was an adept at the game; he pulled theJa out of all sorts of places with his hands or stabbed thel;l with his stick, as though he could see exactly v1Jil!ere they were, t_;hrough stones, mud and overhanging banks. In c:. comparatively short timewe c,aught thirty-four, the largest of nhich J;
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a. good night's rest before our ma.rch to Phobrang, a f'evr miles beyond tl+e north-west_ corner of' the Pango.ng La.ke. This enormous sheet of' we.ter consists really of several lakes, and extends for a distance of about ninety mile' s from Lukung :pa.st Rudok, well into Chinese Tibet..North of' its uestern portion 1.3-Y the wilo. s of' Changchenmo, uhi.ch were to be my f'ine.l destina.tion. The Pangong is 'a. t an eleva.tion of' ne,ar1y 14,000 feet above the sea, and, like many of the Centra. l Asian lakes, it is so salt that no ani ma. l of any kfnd_ can live in it. I'j:, l 'ras indeed a magnificent specta.cle as it l'e, y stretched out before us in the stillness o:f the eerly morning. We stood at the entrance o:f a mirror' ve,lley and from our feet_ extended a v .ast ple.in of sirrooth, whi t,e sand, r'hich cut the deep blue we.ter in one shari) line. Far away on the opposite bank lay first a thin white stree.k of in cruste,ted se,lt; e ,bove this 21.gain the belt of sanci, 'and higher still rose the brmm m asses of the lorrer mounta:ln ranges, topped only by the snowy pea.ks, -dazzling in brilliant r rhite ness in the re.ys of the Eastern sun. All a .round 'Jas silence. I had hurried on a ,lone, the shrill long drm m whistle of the (59)

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La.dakhis as they urged a .lorig the yaJ!:s was yet inaudible;not the cry of a bird, not a brea.th of Hind -disturbed the stillnes s of the scene. An a .ir oJ'> supreme peace per-Vaded all, it seeme. d a .lmost sacrilege to have entered this land of de,a.th and rest. Suddenly, in the f'a.r appeared a sma.ll bla.ck speck, it vras moving e.ncl I stared in wonder as it rose slow ly to the crest of' e. loH, sanely ridge, then, f'or a moment there wa. s to view the figure of' a soli te.ry horsemBn vrhich dise.ppeared. "Woh Chine ko jB.tB. ha.i" (he is going to ChinB.", s a ,id a. voice behind me; I looked round, it vms Saibra a.t mY. elbow. He had come up unhearC!., his ga.ze had followed mine, a.ncl he too had cimght B momentary glintpse .of this strange wa.yfarer on the road to China. A Icing, lov-1 whistle floa.ted through the e ,ir, I hear. d the f'airit jingle of e. bell end e fev r note s of a wild La6,akhi song, the shaggy black head of a yaJr e.ppearecl from behind the boulders and then we all moved on together. ::;ome miles beyoi1d the head of the la,ke we pa.ssed the SJ;tall village of Lukung B.nd, finding a nioe grassy cl.ose by ,-,e cB.lled a halt. Not fBr from us a. number of (60)

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wild looking Tibetans were in camp. 'l'hey r;ere squatting quietly near their :fires whilst a large nwJber of' sheep were grazing all round. As w e a ... -r"roached they showed no sign of' surprise and soon entered into f'riend.ly conversation with U:s. One of' their number 1iasa Red Laraa, so I took the opportunity of' ca.refully fnspecting his and sundry other curiosities 'a.bout his person. Another man rras usiq.g a very peculiar spoon which greatly took my :fancy but, being the only one he possessed, he would not part with it. It w a s rrra.de a,parentJ.y o:f copper and measured a .bout fifteen inches in length. In.side the bowl vtas inlaid with a curious silver figtire. After buying a Quantity of <:Jried apricots, we moved on to Phobrang, where we arrived early in the afternoon. As Phobrang was the la.st ihhabi ted place we were to meet for s01;1e tiQe, variou s .arrangements regi.rding letters, etc. had to be made. The Tmnba.dar was a good chap so ne crune to terms .easily and next morning set out v1ith sUffic ient of everything to Jas.ke us independent for some ;yeeks. Just before st3rting, I w a s in:fonned. tha.t there was another Sahib in c a luP a .bout a mile furiJher down the river. Sending on my transport I rode down with Sa.i bra. to see him, and :round he ha.d just from the very ground I was going

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to. Be said there were. many entelope about end that I ought to have no difficulty in getting e. good hag, more particularly e:s there v 'fCt. s no other 1 -ihi te msn in the whole of Chengcheruno e.t the time. }\.e had he.d good luck in getting his antelope (
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glance <:tt the ruddy glow of a small fire burning in one of the wretched hovels and almosi;. wished I could go and S QUCl, t clm in beside it. Suddenly, surprised. at the sight of a stranger, out rushed -s, small child, who, but f'or a lit,tle red ond blue necklCl.ce, hCl.d_ no-t a vestige of clothing of any kind. There she stood in the p.e.th, suclring the end of her thumb for all the 1'<9rld like Clny baby in an English nursery. She could not have been more than five or six, and her long thick, b1a.ck h<'l.ir stood out like e mop all round her funny little head. As I passed her, she slowly vri thdrew her thwnb and opened her mouth wide in astonishment, then, with a little nod as though she had come to the conclusion that Cl.fter all :1;-''"''s only .an ordinary mortal like herself, only' perhapsa, bit faded in colour, she replaS;ed her thwnb in its wonted plCl ,ce, and walked back to the hut vrith as unconcerned and philosophic<'l:l a look as any lama could_ muster. Uy transport _animals had gone some dista,nce before I ov:ertoolr them end soon afterw.ards as we wended our v m y slowlyalong the rough tre.ck, snow end hail began to fall hes.vily. Later in the day it cleared up, and I tried ray' best to get 3, few shots at several heres, but it vms quite

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iL1j_)ossible to get even ''ithin t"o huncl.rect ya.rcl.s of' then. On e. high hill e.bout e. Jaile cir so the path we se.w the first la.rge herd of' Kyang or Tibetan 'iHld Ass. Reaching c:amp a .bout noon we spent the rest of' the da.y CluietJ:y and retired to bed early so as to be ready for our climb on the following r.1orning. The Pass is 18,420 feet in height and this night which we spent at its foot wa.s, I believe, the coldest He experienced during tl1e six weeks we roamed a.bout La.daKh encl Cha.ngchemno. Not having a therJao-raeter with me I wa. s unable to record the e .ctua.l teJaperature, but, as the evening grew colder end colder, I began to pile on more .and more clothe' s until fimtlly I wa.s wearing every article I had with me, excepting a. spare pa.ir of boots vrhich I we. s una.ble to drim over my chuplies, and my sola topee. I wore tvro complete tweec'\ shooting suits, a. thick fur-linecl. H.a.istcoat, a woollen sweater and uy faithful Kashmir he. t well pullec'\ down over uy ears; besides .all t.hese, I he. d a resai or ne.tive quilt, two thick bl.e.nkets, end a. rug, and yet when I s woke in the morning I ws.s shivering like an as'pen leaf' from head to :foot.. ijowever, .a large pla.te of porridge and a very large mug full of' tea and hot goe.t' s {64)

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milk soon put me right, o>.nd I marched off' :feeling very fit indeed. U y menagerie now ccin .sisted of' seven y aJrs, fourteen goa.ts and three sheep. Although the Pass ;ras by no means difficult our progress was very slow, o wing principally to the yalrs, who, even on goo.d ground, could not do 1aore than two miles an hour. At Gunle, ten miles beyond the watershed, we h a.lted a nd spent the rest of' the day w i thvut inciclent. Early on July 3rd, we set out again and that day vre marched through what wa,s, I think, quite the most depressing stretch of' country we h a d yet set eyes on. On ea.ch side of' us were high, bare hills consisting of' 8. ma s s of' rock, sand a .nd shingle; excepting at a oe.sis called Pamzal, not e bush nor a tuft Of' grast; F/a S near, Clnd during that m a;rch I neither sa.w nor hea.rd a single living thing,neither Juan, heast nor bird, except those belonging to my own little party. our v ery camping groUnd that night seemed more clea,uy then a.ll previous ones, and put a fitting full stop to the of' the w eiJ .ry marches before I was a.t length to fire my :firs t shot. On the 1riorrow I wa.s to re
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day; deducting the hB.lt at Leh, we had marched just twenty ctay's an0, hact in that time traversed three htinctred .and sevent,y-nine miles of a.s strange and interesting a country .as any man could ever wish to behold.

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CHAPTER V:{. At about five o'clock on the morning of' the 4th July, Saibra, the Assistant Shikari, a.nd I started off' v...nd crossing several rivers, we f'inB.lly reached the mouth of' the Nengri Nullah B.nd began our for game. Snow had fallen heavilY" during the night, an(t a. thick white coaj:, came ;-rell down the slopes of' all the higher hills. They looked pieturesque enough but to-day our thought$ we're bent on other things, and so, rather tha.n admire the bea.uty of' Nature, our eyes wandered restlessly backwards and forwards across the undula.ting st.retches of' san. d ilnd gravel before us and up a.nd down the raEges bordering the valley on each side. The s .ilence wa.s intense; nothing coul. d be he.ard but the f'a.int crunching of' our chuplies in the s'ind. Slowly ; m strode up a long ea.sy gra.dient and slowly ;-re raised our hea.ds to look over the little ridge at t.he top, hopes rose high a.s there, not two hundred yards array, appee.red the long, fawn-coloured ba.ck of so1:1e animal, but rapidly they (67)

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they sank a.g
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on a.ga.in, a sec6nd .and a third Hheel followed till suddenly they stood like a. wall, in perfect aligrunent,. f'acing us as bef'ore. Often on the hazy Jua.rshes of' Essex had I stood by the foreshore w .a.tching hundreds of little ox-birds circling anC. turning, rising and dropping as though guided by a si'ngle hand; ses:ond, only to these in their mancruvres were the KyaJ1g. Their accura.cy ;ras almost ludicrous; even the Ka.iser' s much vaunted Gua.rds coul-d not ha.ve equalled at su6h a pace. the1a P".cetty and interesting a.s these Kyang :rere, ne were not overjoyed to see them, knowing full well tb,a. t not .a single hea.d of gru:1e would remain within a mile of where they ha. d ga.lloped in Viild c.a.reer. went our P a .y. So we left tb,em ga.zing and Carefully sca.rinii1g' the ground we wandered on for a iaile or Jaore but not a sign of anything could we see. At last after a particula.rl'y long stare tr.rough I:1Y glasses, Saibra pointed towards a distant spur where, after some little difficulty I observed four a.nima.ls. The distance rra.s too grea.t for us to make out what they were, so, satisfied (69)

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r1i th ha.ving found "soJilething", we wended our r m : :t ca. r efully' tuwa .rds them. The approach w a s very b a ;d, For Ilany htm-d.reds of ya.rds we h a d to advance over cth1os t level ground, where cove r of any lcind wa.s quite LmObta.ina.ble Still full of hope, vre pushed on until we rea .chad the f oot of' the spur whence with the gre;.st cc>ane the Chota Shikari. Crc>.wling along on c>.ll :!"ours vre got nea.rer and nearer till a t l,a .st Sa.ibra. stoiJ);)ed
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valley and_ a high conic.a.l hill coJnpletely ohstructed our :forvia.rd view. -A trudge o:f a .bout a mile brought us more into the open aga.in and. there on the green s1 rarc1, at no grea.t dista.noe from u s, we discovered severa. l antelope, They vrere in c'-had position for a stalk so ; re sat down a.nd waitec:I patiently for a while. At last we sa. w one rather fine buck, who na. s somewha. t separa. t .ed from the rest, diqappear ov:er the cre-st o:f a hillock. This was exactly what vre wa.nted, so off we went a.J:'ter him. The hill like all others around, was a.bsolutely bare, so a .ll .due precautions ha. d to be ta.kem in ca.se he should_ take it into his hea.d to return to the crest .and have a look back. Sai bra m:o:s a.n !!;dept at taking advantage of' every little fold in the ground, a.nd. aii;.. length we arrived, undisCover.e.d, just helo.vr the swn-mit. C -autiously ra.ising our hea
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away a.t once, but I had time to send J.s usual, leading. As nearec'l. the edge o:f a small, steep knoll I too saw the reason :for Saibra's sudden jump, for there, down in the valley before us, about a hin 'clred yards ava.y, vas
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his horns measured. jus t unde r 23 inches, but the other ha.d. a sma.ll piece broken of':f the top and. this rather spoilt the symr.1etry o:f the heacl .. That, afternoon I got a few iaore running shots, but failed to kill, so .,,,e returned. to camp about 4 30 p.Ia., vrell satisfied with our da.y's work and. thinking it wa.s over. Here however, we were vrrong, for I ha.d. not been in EJY tent h al:f a.n .hour when Sa.ibra caiae ec11d. tolll iae tha. t there w?..s another buck on the mountain close by. O:f:f ne nent -aga.in, and having got within ea.sy range vri thout EJ.uch d.if':ficul ty, J;. was jus t about to fire when the buck sprang to his feet 'and. galloped away. I let f'ly and my bullet shattered his near f'ore absolutely to pieces; a. second round brought him to a halt. Both ha; d been running shots ancl., although hard. hit, he still had. plenty of' li:fe in hiin, so much so th;a. t Hhen I a.pproached. he raised. himself as well a.s he could., lowered. his hea. d and. ina.o_e every e:f:fort to :fight it out to the end-; Aft,er putting an .end. to him <>.s ra.pid.ly a.s possible, I looked at his wounds more closely. r.1y :first bullet had broken his near :fore in two, it hung only by the sinews and. in these the poor brute ha:d hopelessly entangled. his off' hind.. It (73)

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w
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ahoui, ar.. hour's rest, we set out again ,at noon. After ing about in vain till four :p. la. we sat and rested "w
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f'6r a moment he stood. over the "-spe9k"-, then he turned it over 'and sat .down. By this. tiJae I was pretty well 9ert,ain that Saibr.a had been right and my last, c'.oubt.s 1vere .set at rest, when a quarter of' an hour later, the man came d.oym Hth a pair of' horns more ma.ssive tnan any of' the others I had bagged. I c6Jnpared the1n with my twenty-:five inch ones anct theY' were so much thicker round the base that I am sure this would have almost been a record b,ead had not unfortunately the tops. of' both horns been broken off'. As they were, they measured 22t inches anci. I should say, judging by their thickness and taking into con.sicieration the :fact tha. t both horns were broken just above the u;;;penaost "-knot"(the long Slilooth tips therefore being non-existent) they li1Ust, before being broken, have measured at least 27 inches. It uas unfortunate to have them thus s.c;oileci, but I haci no cause to grumble vrhatever happened, so I werit baclt to caEip, aga,in feeling very happy and ready. :for dinner, having norr got five bw::k out of the six allowed anywhere vrithin BritiSh Territ,ory, by one licence, Before .. closing t.his chapt.er perhaps' a f'evr about, the Tibetan Antelope woul. d not be out of' place. These Tibetan Antelopes (Kemas Ho6.gsonii) are known by nearly all. (76)

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shikaris merely .as' "hiran"' but as t.his only neans "deer" generally, the tena is, to say t:tie 1 ea-st of' it, ratller vague, The La
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apparent cause, 'and rush frantically across the pliJ.in. Were it "not f'or the horns, the Tibet,an Antelope would be f.arfrom handsome; the head ii;.self' is posltfvely ugly. A la'rge snout nith dilated nostrils and a. pair of' large goggle-eyes are particularly noticeable, whilst one of' the Jaost pecu liar f'eatt.iresof' all is the distance between the ears and the sea.t of' the horns. The latter are set right f'orHard and grow straight up iJ;u;lediately above the eyes. The only other species of' game I say; during Jay' first two d.ays in the Nengri Nullah, was. a yoiing O'vis .AJ;illlon, not more than two years old. We nere resting opposite a narrow gorge soiue four or five hundred yards a >iay when the little ,aniJaal trotted well out into the open, stood and stared at us in surprise f'or sever.a.l Jainutes cind then went quietly ba.ck to its safe retreat.

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CHAPTER VII. I have alreauy stetted that in the ye.ar I visited La.-dakh and Changcheruno no sportsman was allowed to shoot more than six Tiqetan AntelorJe in these cotint,rles. A similar limit is yearly fixed Hi th regard to all gru01e in and about Kashruir and the ad.vanta.ges accruing f'.coru such a system .are manifold. In fonaer days there wa. s nothing to prevent an unscrupulous. sport:sl>1an though unworthy of the narae--from shooting ,a.t every hea. d 'he sa.w in the hopes of sometime or other securing a good t,rophy, and many under-sized snir.1a .ls were killed. Now, however, being limited to only a corape.r'-ativ.ely Slaa .u: number of heads, men take e;are that these few shall be as good as possible. shot five antelope .and I rm. s detenained to get my sixth by hook cir crook. Our experiences of' the previous ,afternoon had clearly \ proved that game vms getting very'_ s,hy in the Nengri Nullah, so Saibra .and I that we would cross over into 'Chinese Tibet and com plete the bag .there, and, then .advance into the "Forbidden Land" until we were Of>posed and orttered to cle,ar (7Q)

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out. We were within a : few Lliles of' the actual border-line; a very low pa;ss alone separating us :frora the Togbu Nullah ih Tibetan territory. R;arbu Firs t thing in the J;Jorning we le:ft cruap; Sa.ibra and I preceding the baggage as usual. We had got to vrithin a mile o:f the actual borcier .anQ. alreaqy I felt a 1;1ild form of' pleasurable excitement .at the prospect of' ent.e.ring tha,t strange "NO-li!an Is Lanci"' of which I haci 'hearci so many tales' when vre suo.denly literally stwabled into a herd of' graz:lng antelope. I fired and a. buck fell to lilY gun, l[.is horns only mee.sured about eighteen inches but one of curiously deformed; he 'laS in a way an interesti'ng trophy', but 1aany and J;Jany a tiLle since I shot him, have I vrished lilY' bullet he.ci gone -,.fide of' it;s 1aark. Whilst vre were skinning hii;J we re-discussed the situ-ation and re-considered olir decision of the previous day. I had shot Jay liJait of' antelope and after some vacillation tl1e thought of' Jaore, of different trophies proved too strong :for n1e, r:Ty shikexi instincts got the upper hanc1.; I saw .enormous phantom heads. before me and visions of' the Ovis .AJ:uaon my chance acquaintance .a t Phobrang had Llisseci. Saibra {80)

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e.ssured me that in Tibet I might get antelope but that I should not he.ve tiiae enough to go sufficiently :Ce..r for other so, finally, I aecided to turn back and. try for :Bur he 1 near the Pangong Le.ke. I should be anticipating were I now to men;tion what iaeasure of success I 1aet with in their pur-suit; suffice it to say that, whatever _.that measure, I he.ve never ceased to regre:t the ds. y when, on its very threshold, I turned 1;JY back on one of the 1aost countries the Horld has ever known. Force.d m?.rche's bEwk to Phobreng occupied my next. four de.ys, and during the.t tiJae little of importance occurred,. of Ky
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know. Fcir days together their dung vra: s the only f'uel we 90uld obtain. Aa tb,e two Kysng I h a:d shot le.y o n the ground hef'ore ine I H-as able to exmaine theiu a t leaisure 8l1d couldnot help thinking wha.t fine, strong animals they were .and how useful they would be could they only he broken in :f'cir transport purposes. 'i'he Kyang stands, I should sa,y, a .bout 14 ha.nds, he is fa.wn-coloured p_..nd wears a thick alnost woolly coat.Nly La .ti:akhis were delighte.d
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in as nearly the orthodox l:::tanner as would perE1i t we ue.de for the edge and there we stuck f'or .e. whil.e. rcrany grunts, punchings, and I fear also a certain anount of "language" :tron. one and a.ll of' my staff of servants however, at last preva.iled and. tlie old. ya.k took to the vrater, gingerl;y' enough, indeed, but by 6.egrees he war1:1ed to 'his work Hnd then he o'Jent forward with a vengeance. I had to hold on to his pa.ck-sa.ddle like grilJ. ci.ea th, and rith 1 :zy knees :Pretty well up to uy chin, l:JY lower extremities Hell soaked, and l:JY shikari he:t well ciown over l:JY face, I ous t have been a sight to please the hea:rt of' any riding-l:ta.st.er. ijovrever, after 1:1any rolls ano. lurches we finally reached the o pposite bank, anc't continued our warch in safety, until we Phobrang during the a.f'ternoon of' July 9th. ,A rE\ached car,eful sea.rch of' the Ovis Al;llilon ground through which ne had passed revae.led nothing but a f'evr fairly distinet spoors so we set to and turned our .attention seriously to burhel. Early next 1aorning v;e left the village and entered a narrow gorge close by. Two and a half' hours of' steady laborious a t 1 ast, brought us near the top of' a very high hill. 'There were 1 ;1any tr.aces of' burhel but, although (83)

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He se.arched everything Hith the greatest care, ue coulcl not Suddenly ElY LadaJd1i a.ssistant shikari, who had J:10v:ed o:f:f a little to a :flank, motioned to us to :a:p-:proach hil:t. Follo::ring his sig-nalled .directi6ns v1e cane to a steep and a careful g.lance over the edge of' this revealed no less than :four uale burhel lying amongst the grey stones on a little plateau :So1:1e tvro hundred feet, below us. Crouching behind a convenient rock, I cm."efully selected the bigges t raia and fired; he s9rang up :frou his layer and U1en sank again in a pool of' blood. A second bullet accounted :for the next best head, an6. good heads they were, both of theJa. The :first r,Jeasured no less than in le,ngth and ben _inches in girth, whilst the second uas 23i by ten inches. rzy goocl luck wa. s alJ:lOSt absurd and Sai-bra could not get a.<: er it. Burhel are no doubt. more fre-quently met with than uost Hiraalayan big game, but :fevr raan have the good fortune to get such hea.ds as these tvro were, even a.f'ter infinitely Jaore trouble and t.irae than it had taken me to get ;aine. Of course I had 1aarched four hunared miles frol:t Srinaga.r: before firing l:tY first shot, and so ha. d not, got trophies without a. struggle, but still, a.s (84)

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(85)

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CHAPTER VIII. fiy shikari thought little r:10re good coulL'i. be done in this nullah anci so he recm;u-;Jended l:J.oving 'along the S,outhern sho"re of' the Pangong Leike to Shooshal near the or Pangoor Lake. I took his a,dvice and the following davm again saw l:J.Y restless little coltu:J.n en route; the small village of' Mang, neai:'ly trrenty l:liles aw.a:y, being our destination. The scenery near the Pangong Lake is not in itself' beautiful, but there is a strange and inexplicable f'ascina-tion about those weird and lonely shores. The Pangong is itself' a salt-lake and, like all its surroundings, appears to be slowly but surely dying; long, :p_arallel rrhite ,arid t:Lde-ma'rks on its stony banks, clearly show how year by year it has receded, sinking ste.a,dily further end further into the ground and, though the deep blue water s-till covers ,an enormous area, I doubt whether 1aa.ny c enturies nill ela.pse before the soft, white sa.rid noH encircling it entirely takes its :place. (86)

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On this white sand my' cauy was .:Pitched, and as the day wore on t,he burning sun sank like -a flaming ball behind the snow-ca.:pped Jaounta.ins. in the west. Behind 1ae lay the peaceful little village with its b'ackgroundaf dark,f'rovmfng r 'ock. On the f'la.t-roofed houses the si.'lent La.dakhis were .dreaJaing of Nirvana and thin white colw.ms of smoke rose straight up into the still evening air until, after a short Oriental twilight, da-.rkness hung an impenetrable curtain over .all. Impenetrable? Yes, to all save one; for slov-rly but surely the s.ilvery ha.ze behind the distant l:tountains grew in strength.and one by one d'ispersed the lingering shadows. Then, a s the 1aoon herself rose in full .above the snow-capped wa.ll and ran her :pa.llid rays along ius. ragged edge, making the glistening :peaks and gl.aciers stand out in brilliant whiteness against the still, .ci.ar'k sky, it seemed as though a great and glor'ious sense of :peace, a foretaste of Nirvana, had come to all in this strange land of .ore. runs. 9n the 1aorro1-r we were up betimes and a couple of hours af'ter dawn the little village of J.lang was hi.dden :from our view. Miles of deep soft sand lay stretched out be-

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f'o.re us ilnd if' ever I learnt the truth of' "Nihil sine it we>.s on this 12th o:f July. However, as all thing;s COlile to an end so did this tir'ing march, ;;md a:fter a f'ew hours' rest at Shoo.sha. l all our troubles were forgotten and the morning o:f the 13th e>.gain saw us 'ready f'or work, but in direction that work lo.y I am under a promise not to reveal. When suggesting "burhel near the Pangong Saibra had said he knew o:f two certain :places but to one o:f these he could ta.ke me only is I :;)romised never to tell any o ther Sahib, a ; s he alone knevf its whereabouts ani would su:ff'er much loss were other shikaris to :find out about it. r could not help siuiling
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I .think it is E.F.Knight who, in his ;;1ost interesting book "VI'here Three gives credit to the rwaour ths. t ri. some:'The>.t grea.ter elev;ation the>n the other -were divided by a sharp rocky ridge which rie>. s destined to an importC!nt part in ;zy next :few days' shiklir. The higher ple> .teaxi bei'p.g nearer c alap, we ascended to it first, but, .as a. most carefulseaJ:och revea.led nothing, rre ma.6.e our way towards the ridge in the hopes of meeting with better luck beyond it. Cra.wling up c-a.utiously "lilOng the boulders, re peered over' the edge. The ple.tea.u below we>.s ;auch ;aore extensive then the one we he.d just left and, sloping away towards the (89)

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next che.in of molinte.ins, it ended in a stee:p ravine. S.ai bra took my glasses end carefully scanned the gre.ssy .slo:pes. Fo r some t.ime he sat motionless, then, slowly -raising his hand, he pointed to a s:pot far below us on oU:r left .and there ?.J"ter some little trouble, I too discerned a large flock of' burhel muubering, I should think, quite thirty hee.ci, were al1aost in:visible to the ne.ke
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the whole flock still gr; the little ravine we hc;.d observed beyonu the :plateau. The burhel were now above us and, but for a1laost ili1pe:-:-ceptiblef'olds in the ground, there was not a vestige of' cover between our-sel v:es anot where he expected to :find his prey and then slowly fiirther <'lld further away till a t last they dropped. gaya" he whispered as he crouched down beside ]ae "Ghella and I thought that, :fo'r tha t de. y at a.ll events, our chance Has (91)

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gone. we ha. d been discovered it we.s d;if'f'icult to S"-Y, but I scarcely thfn};: w e he. d bee n seen. In these high moun-t"-ins the 1 'Tind is 1;10st de<_::epti ve, end many a sportsma n owes the loss of a good hE'.3d to its qua.int =d ever-va.rying an ti.cs, to some wild gust v;hi'ch h a s suddenly betra.yed his to the keeb scent of the anl1aa. l he h a.s perha.ps for hours, on end, been doing his best to et.pproa.ch. The flock had gone up the sloping pla.tea.u, so a.gafn we took up the pursuit, cra. vTling, running and crouching behind boulders as before; it wet.s hard c-;ork indeed, but "-t l
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little bank, wa,tching for the lea.st sign of' a pair of' those boldly curve.d horns it,s crest Hhen suddenly, as though sr>rung f'rma a "J:ack-:ln-the-box", the hee.ci. o:f Then the Jaan stopped and looked ba.ck to s ee ho\1 far I had got, I was not many yar.ds behind him and co1aing up to his side, I se.w the vihole flock again, now (93)

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sca,mpering wildly up t.he steep mounta.in-sicie. little time :for thought so, stea.dying J;zyself as There V!a.s best I_ could, I fired -and i7tissed. Sorely .ciis.appointed I sa.t down .and spent the next ten minutes trying to rega.in ;;zy I had becoJ7te :fairly "cooked". We were at .an eleva.tion of ;a.bout 17,000 feet 'zmd '?Tha.t with that, the roughness o:f the ground and the thick, hea:vy clothes n,ecessitated by the cold, I can safely s ay tha.t even the toughest "quarter-of-a.-h1ile" I hs.ve ever had anyt.hing to do with rras not a !)a .tch on the.t wild rush. We were not a. very hopeful party when, a t the expiration of our brief rest, He reco);]Llenced cra:wling up the steep slope towa.rcls the 'ridge .after the flock once more and to a ;dd to our discolilf'iture, fine driving snow began to :fe .ll. Thi9ker e>nd thicker it fell the higher we rose, and things indeed seeJaed hopeless when, on nearing the Sa.ibra., '''ho v1a.s lea.ding a.s usual, bobbed down a.s though he ha.d bee.n shot. I well whi!!.t thi's meant, and in 8n instant I was ci.own on the ground_ besi.de him and rea.<-'i.y to fire. There, not a. hunci.red ya:r<-'i.s a.w.ay stoo.<-'i. the v1hole flock of Burhel, (94)

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cowering lihcier the high rocks anci seeking viha t shelter they could 1'r01a the cold ind end snoH. .As ground they i tch-bla.ck in :front a n d I should have given 1nuch to ha.ve been a .ble to bring a.wa.y his handsome sl;:in; but like the skins of' the Tibetan Antelope, (95)

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those of' the burhel are c,_uite useless a.t this time of yeer. The second ra.t ter and const;,ant drip, drip, dripping from the roof' of' my tent. All through the night it and the following morning r evealed the nullah a.s dismal and unfriendly as could well be iJaagined, Black, bulging ma.sses ha.d wedged thelilSelve s into the gap ahead and cruae rolling steadily for-(96)

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\'lard, whilst right and lef't for scarcely a. score o:f ya.rds could the eye follow th,e outline of' the steep mounta.in side. Towa.rds noon it clear.ed and a short, unsuccessful outing v1as all we did that .day'. Rain continued to f'ail almost incessantly, .and it lfTas. not till the afternoon of' our :fourth day in ca.m:p that we could a.ga.fn venture out on to the hillside vrith imy ch,ance ot: a. shot. By' ha.lf' past tv1o we ha,d sighted a f'lock in a good position for a. stalk, and ha.lf' an hour later I vras leaning heavily against Saibra. and til.king careful aim a t ohe of' the largest rams. He fell like a log, the bullet as w e af't.erdiscovered having glanced off' the massive curved horn on t)le ne.ar .side chipping a piece clean out of' it, .and then passed right through the aniJaal' s 'Drain. Of' course the rema.inder of' the flock made off as f'a.st as they .could pelt, and e parting shot J:. sent e.:fter them brought down ram No. 6; he tra.velled some way, but being easy to tr.ack, we him shortly at the foot of e. stee:p precipice f'olind These two la.st. hea.ds Jaeasured respectively 23 inches by lOt end 22 inches by 12; they made my limit and though I little knew it a.t the time, they vrere a .lso to re the last (97)

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big gcu;1e I we.s t,o shoot for Ja8.ny a 1aonth to come. Early on the Jaorning of' July 17th, we s tC"..rteci on our return 1aarch to Leh. Our sever a l ex:peclit,ions .after Qv is AlJraun had been quite unsuccessful, and besides these J;w.gni f'icent ani1;1e.ls lit,tle else but Burhel .a.nd Tibe-L,an .Antelop e could be hoped :for in these regions; so ne deternined in t.he first :Lnst8.nce to go bs.ck to L e h s nci to try oUr. luck after Shsrpoo neer Saspool. As before f'orce.d J.y and, by tel:ing a short cut f'ro1a Shooshal .direct to 'l enkse, ?ie hoped to erri ve in the cs;pi ta.l of' L acla.kh on a.bout Suncie .y, the 22ncl of' July. The country we tre.verseci v aried little f'ro1a t,he t t o vrhich w e he.d becorae .e.ccustomed during t,he last month or lilore; the Sai;]e strange china pervs.ded all. There :-rere Jaeny :ple;oe s of' :pe.ssing interest, yet none veryJ.ng sufficiently f'rola the rest to lilerit a separate cierw ription here. On s .ll sides was a:;>parent the hanliiwork of the );Jious Lejaas. On 1aany on e1ainence, e .cross which lay our pe.th, stood. a solitary ce.irn with the uind 1aoaning through t,he chinks betneen the loosely piled st,ones. Below lsy the nu.lilie r slabs bearing the o :ft_;r.epeatecl 110rds; "Oh raani patJai hooml" and wit,h theJil, collected lil:er;ise by (98)

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these n -anc'iering monks, le. y the gigantic horns o:f Juany s. fine yak or ovis. P ... waon, reduce. d by n:lnd .and wea :ther to m rayer in favour of hiiu who had hoisted the little coerse-textured square. F'ro1a Tankse ;;e retr
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the dusty roa.d, bearing 1ae r al)idly back to civilise.tion with its noise, its worries, its ra.ilm\,ys end telegra. i Jhs, I we;tched the grey-cla,d :figure growing les s end less in the distance, and longed to be a.ble to return with him to "(,hose silent peaceful valleys o:f Ladakh and Ghangchenno.