But, from the first height on which we stopped to examine the surrounding ground a bear was espied in motion. He stopped in a grassy hollow to feed; so, the mode of approach having been determined, we ascended until in his immediate neighbourhood, and, it being ascertained he was still on that spot, I took up position, and saluted him with a missile from Whitworth. He flinched, and made off: but two successive shots from the Enfield rolled him over stone dead. The first shot had passed through his body. He was rolled down the hill-side to be skinned; and, there leaving him, we continued our search for more victims, but unsuccessfully, so returned to camp.
31st May. Before starting this morning I was informed by the sepoy attending me, who with two coolies had been sent yesterday down the valley to Busman to procure two sheep and other supplies for the onward journey, that he had selected—I suppose, seized on—two sheep, when the villagers collecting set upon him, abused and beat him and the coolies, setting his authority as the Maharajah's servant and my attendant at defiance. This outrage created intense indignation. The shikarries were profuse in their abuse, and suggested all sorts of retaliation. It being necessary that something should be done to vindicate my dignity, and also to prevent a repetition of such misconduct which, if permitted to go unpunished, would prevent Europeans coming into the valley at all, I announced my intention of sending in the sepoy, with coolies and skins, to carry my complaint and make his own statement to the Vizier at Sirinuggur. This was to be carried out after breakfast. The shikarries and other attendants were pacified with this decision.
We then took the same direction as yesterday, and after a mile or two's trudge spied a bear in an open place, difficult of approach. We made a long circuit, and stalked up to his position with great caution and patience, but found his place vacant, and no clue to his retreat.
We pursued our way, and discovered another hairy individual taking his morning meal in a ravine. I got within fifty yards of him, and knelt, awaiting a clear view of his person, now partially eclipsed by bushes. His whole broadside being presented, I fired and over he rolled—got up, made an approach to us, then disappeared up the hill-side. I had not the least doubt he was shot right through behind the shoulder. Subhan, after some little delay, went after him, but returned, not finding blood on the track, which is by no means an incontestible proof, as it is very difficult to detect blood in small quantities on the bare dark soil, and the thickness and length of the woolly coat of bears, at this season of the year, absorbs and staunches the blood which, thus congealing, does not in many cases reach the ground, until the wounded animal has gone some distance.
I returned disconsolate, and wrote an official report to Punnoo, Vizier, of the misconduct of the Busman folk, recommending some check to be administered to them. Whilst writing, my messenger, whom I had despatched to Sirinuggur for lead, returned bringing that indispensable article with him, of which I had now quite run out, having expended so many bullets uselessly, firing all my barrels at wounded bears when at long distances, for the chance of a 'nailer' being administered. He brought me also letters and newspapers, a very seasonable supply; for in this solitary mode of life these links, which connect one with absent friends and keep one 'au fait' of passing occurrences, are invaluable.
In the evening we went down valley and across the river after a bear on the opposite hill. We were cut off from him, when in sight, by a deep hollow which we could not cross without exposing ourselves, and the brute was even now uneasy, looking up, and sticking up his ugly snout in the air to catch any objectionable savour. We drew back, and made a long detour, and arrived to find Bruin's place void.
We went on through some jungle, and suddenly started a bear to the surprise of both parties. He scuttled off in their usual clumsy style, and pulled up on the hill behind a large tree whose branches protected him. With studious care I endeavoured to open his position, and at last got sight of his forehand; he was from one hundred and fifty to two hundred yards off. I rested the Enfield, and, taking steady aim, fired, and evidently hit. He scrambled up the rocks, I firing my other barrels at him, apparently striking him again, but not stopping him.
I sent Subhan after him, and then moved slowly on, much dejected at such repeated failures, the more vexatious from the animals being badly wounded. After some time we heard a shot, and congratulated ourselves on Subhan's having retrieved the bear: but when he, after a long time, rejoined us, we found that he had fired at a 'kustoora,' and had not seen the bear.
Back to camp:—Subhan and Mooktoo remaining unusually late at the fire, I went out, and they told me they had a proposal to make, viz. to leave me and Phuttoo to cast bullets in the morning, while they tried to find the wounded bear. I accepted readily this suggestion.
1st June. We converted all the lead into bullets before breakfast. I was reading the papers, when Subhan popped his head into the tent, and gave me the welcome intelligence, that they had brought back the skin of the bear, having tracked him high up the hill, where he was found under a rock, and he made a charge at them: they, however, killed him. My shot had entered immediately behind the left shoulder, passed through the body, and out behind the right shoulder. Yet he went off as described; and would have been lost, as many others have been, had he not been thus tracked up. It is wonderful what they carry away.
By advice of the shikarries I resolved to move to-morrow down to Goombrah, now evacuated by t'other hunter, who is said to have killed only two or three bears there, and not to have climbed the hills at all; so, as ibex are said to be tolerably numerous among the mountain summits, I may have a chance of getting a shot at those much-prized animals—but I quite dread the work.
2nd June. I was informed by Phuttoo at an early hour, that it was raining and cloudy, so countermanded the move for the present, hoping that the day might clear.
At 1 P.M. the weather mended; the clouds broke, the sun appeared, and we thought we were sure of a fine afternoon. I struck tent, packed up and started all the things, remaining myself behind for an hour or two, for the chance of a meeting with Bruin.
We were miserably deceived in the weather; black clouds rolled up, thunder crashed overhead, and down descended the rain in torrents. We waited some time under shelter for a lull; then set forth, soon to experience a down-pour as heavy as ever. We trudged grimly through it. Having crossed the river, we saw an old and two young bears on the side we had left—soon after, another on the same side. We could not retrace our steps in such weather—all the hunt washed out of us.
We arrived at our new bivouac, draggled and wet—found the tent just up, but nothing yet in it—got under the eaves of a house, and patiently abided the announcement of the tent being ready; then changed clothes, had a roaring fire lit close to my tent, and made a hearty dinner. The night bitterly cold.
3rd June. Sunday. The ground was white with snow, there having been a considerable fall during the night.
I strolled up the narrow valley, which is similar to that of Kuzuznai, leading from the Wurdwan in an easterly direction—a brawling stream dashing down it, the mountains steep, and their lower portions covered with pines on the southern side; more accessible, bare, and open, on the north. I enjoyed a delightful stroll. The sunlit features of the romantic scenery, bright and glowing, though wintry, harmonizing with my feelings, suggested a happy train of meditation which accompanied me back to my tent.
The afternoon was dismal and sloppy, rain continuing on and off till night.
A noisy brawl was occasioned by my people having gone out to procure a sheep, and having, after much trouble and search, succeeded in discovering at a neighbouring hamlet the place where they had been concealed, 'nolens volens,' brought off two fine ewes, the ostensible proprietors following with a 'posse comitatus', clamorous and loudly vociferating remonstrances, and indulging in their choicest abuse.
It certainly goes much against my grain to sanction any forcible appropriation: but what to do? These Wurdwanites are the most impracticable of savages. It is quite useless treating them with the kindness, liberality, and consideration one practises to civilized people. They neither understand nor appreciate it. They refuse to part with their stock or produce, as it would appear, solely to enjoy the unaccustomed luxury of asserting a right, and the privilege of giving a refusal; which they think they may do with impunity in the case of a saheb, but would crouch and fawn in the most abject servility, were it one of the native officials. This is a noticeable trait in the character of this rude people. I am, therefore, compelled to exercise arbitrary authority over them, or I should not be able to procure supplies. Their ungracious denials do not proceed from any wish to retain their property in expectation of higher profit: for I, as do others I understand, pay them nearly double the price the articles are worth, or would realise if disposed of to native dealers in the usual course of sale. So that one can only attribute their rejection of liberal trading offers to churlish brutish perversity. The shikarries affirm this to be the real state of the case, so I feel little compunction in allowing things to take their course, always insisting conscientiously on a liberal rate of payment being actually made.
I do not know either the extent, or the amount of population, of this valley: but the latter must be inconsiderable, as the soil, though extremely fertile, is limited as regards facilities for cultivation. The valley and its ramifications being narrow, with sides steeply shelving, offer few and small level spots for raising grain: and the whole surface is covered with rocks and stones, the 'debris' of the impending mountains, shattered at periods by convulsions of nature; and every winter greatly increases these impediments to husbandry, when the accumulated snows, becoming detached, are precipitated into the valleys, carrying with them countless stones which, gathering as they descend, are scattered below in all directions. The small patches of arable are, therefore, cleared with great labour, the stones being collected in heaps: and some idea may be formed of their quantity by the fact that spaces of only a yard in width, intervening between these heaps, are ploughed and sown. The cultivated lands, viewed from the heights above, may be likened to a piece of cloth on which a child, having spilt ink, has amused itself by tracing it all over, in charming varieties of lineal figures, with its fingers.
Barley is principally, if not altogether, the produce, and its farina, with curds, the staple food of the people. Though agricultural efforts are thus necessarily restricted, ample scope is given for the depasturing of flocks and herds, the mountains up to a great height being well covered with a rich earth yielding an abundant vegetation, suitable in its varieties to all animals, and offering not a few edible productions to man; such for example, as leeks, garlic, carrots, and other roots, and several sorts of substitutes for greens, whose species and names I am ignorant of, but which I daily devour.
The cattle are small, and by the laws of the ruler of these realms, a Hindoo, are strictly forbidden to be killed. The penalty for disobedience was, until recently, death; and many instances of its fulfilment have been related to me, Mussulmen being the victims of this iniquitous system. But since British influence has been brought to bear upon the Prince of this territory, and a wholesome respect for our government, and dread of its displeasure, established, "nous avons changé toute cela." It is not now a life for a life, but the punishment is the next in severity in the penal code.
Cattle are used for carriage, countless droves being employed in the conveyance of salt, and every other article of merchandise between Cashmere and the adjoining countries. As food the milk is eaten when curdled, and some 'ghee' is made, but not for the market.
Sheep are plentiful and large flocks are brought into the valley to depasture from Cashmere. Their fleece is their chief remunerating property. A few goats are reared, and at every village I have met with a score or so of ponies of an indifferent, leggy breed. Fowls are not plentiful, and gardens appear nowhere.
The inhabitants are very low in the scale of civilization, but as they have little acquaintance with things beyond their valley, they have few wants or desires which it does not supply. Their existence is patriarchal and simple. Either sex have but one style of garment, a baggy, shapeless smock of warm woollen homespun, the produce of their own flocks, and the work of their own hands.
Their houses, or hovels, are of wood, the sides of logs, the interstices filled with clay, the roofs of split slabs. No care is taken in their construction to fit them for protection from the extreme rigours of the winter; so I conclude their inmates suffer much at that season, as do their flocks and herds, as their unthrifty, apathetic habits do not allow them to store up sufficient dry fodder to support them, while the deep snows cover the ground. Dirt and filth abound in the villages and their precincts; and the people are martyrs to hydrophobia. The males are stout, hale, and well-looking: the females, as far as my limited opportunities of observation permitted an opinion, are haggard and ugly. They, poor creatures! as in all races where man's nature is least refined, have the greater portion of the labours of life to endure. The males give me the idea of being contented and happy enough in their ignorance. They profess Mahomedanism, and in each hamlet is a small musjed, with either a resident moulvie, or an itinerant one, to officiate.
They complain much, as do all the Maharajah's subjects, of the heavy imposts levied on them, and to this attribute their indifference to bettering their condition, asserting that if they increased their substance, they would be only the marks for the rapacity of the government screws. This is, no doubt, in part true; but I think their natural indisposition to exertion is now the main hindrance to industry and enterprise. These poor peasants have to pay the Maharajah five rupees per annum for every hundred head of sheep, cattle, &c., and three rupees for every measure of ground computed to yield one maund (eighty lbs) of grain. This latter burden they bitterly complain of, as whatever the harvest the full amount is exacted: and when it is considered that the intrinsic value of the maund of grain,—the marketable price—is but one rupee, it does appear abominably rapacious to extort three times the value, and whether the harvest fails or not. Formerly, under a system but lately changed, the cultivators paid in kind, equally dividing the produce, and with this they were, they say, satisfied. At any rate, they now view its abrogation with regret.
As regards the sporting resources and capabilities of the Wurdwan, they no longer exist, but in the traditions and memories of by-gone days. These grounds have been now so constantly hunted, and the animals yet surviving, so harassed and disturbed, that with the exception of a few bears—ignoble game—there remains hardly an animal to reward the toil of the hunter. After my present experience, I would not myself again, nor would I recommend any other sportsman to try his chance in the Wurdwan, unless in the autumn, when the stags bellow; there may be, possibly, good sport then, but I should be disposed to try elsewhere.
4th June. Up the valley, through some beautiful grassy bottoms along the stream, most likely places for the resort of game. But we got over some miles of ground, ere any glimpse of an animal was obtained: then some ibex were seen up the mountain, which before long, scared by some cause unknown, were seen in rapid career to the inaccessible summits.
We soon moved on: but in the gorge where the ibex were seen a bear was descried, and the ground being favourable we gained his neighbourhood, and a shot from the Enfield smote him in the shoulder. He made off, but after receiving several more shots was brought rolling down.
We continued our course up the valley, still through most promising coverts, far the prettiest shooting ground I had seen; we saw traces of bara sing, and numerous of bears, and halted for the day in a clear space, there to await the evening. Snow fell, and it became bitterly cold. We took shelter under some firs, and after a time had a fire, round which we squatted comfortably chatting.
In due time we moved back towards camp—saw a bear, and were about the right place, when getting our wind he fled amain. Continuing our beat carefully through the jungle, Subhan dropped to game, and, following his indicator, I saw a dark coloured animal raise up its head. I said, "it is a bullock": but no, it was a bear, an unusually large and dark one, and when he looked up, with his ears pricked up, they looking like short horns gave him the momentary appearance of some species of 'bos,' such as the musk ox. But bear, and nothing else, was he.
We stalked, and raising our heads saw him immediately below us, not half a dozen paces off, in a hollow. I aimed to take him between the shoulders—off went the gun, and off went the bear, another shot striking him; then he disappeared. I pursued with Phuttoo—lost all traces, and turned, when we saw Subhan and Mooktoo in hot chase across a snowdrift bridging the stream, on which we soon detected the bloody tracks of the bear. Hopes were raised. The rocky, precipitous mountain side was difficult to surmount, but I had faith in Subhan, especially on a bloody trail.
Phuttoo and I, reconnoitring from below, espied the chase high up, crossing the side of the hill at a slow walk. We hailed the pursuing hunters, encouraging them in their efforts; saw them emerge, and enter faithfully on the trail. Then we moved further on, and again I viewed the chase higher up still, slowly making for a pine-clad crag where, from its appearance, I judged he would pull up. Anxiety now became extreme. The ground presented such difficulties, and I had lost sight of the hunters, who I feared might have given up the chase in despair. I sat in suspense, gazing upwards, and expressing hopes hardly entertained to Phuttoo, when crack! went a rifle, the whereabouts denoted by a small puff of smoke on the top of the crag mentioned. Now all was serene. I felt sure of victory: when another shot, resounding from a more distant spot, dimmed my bright hopes, and doubts again assailed me—another shot, hopes again brightened—an exclamation from an attendant behind, and the bear was seen clearly defined on the snow, in a ravine leading down from the crag, evidently dropping. Suddenly he rolled over, and simultaneously a shot rung out, and smoke appeared from above him. He slid down the snow: the hunters came in view following cautiously, and soon after we saw one discharge two shots at the prostrate, but still formidable brute. Then huge stones were cast at him, and he was pushed and hustled, till, getting way on, he came rolling and sliding on the snow to the bottom of the ravine; to which place we now made our way, and found our prey a monster for these parts, by far the largest bear I have seen here.
He was riddled with bullets; my first shot had entered between the shoulders, at the base of the neck, and came out at the belly: the second struck him well in the middle of the shoulder. Yet he went off as described, and was nearly lost, as many an one has been before. I returned very "koosh"—the shikarries, too, proud of this capture, and their share in it. The bear, they say, turned on them, and put them to flight. They are great cowards these men, as, I believe, all the Cashmiries are. Phuttoo, however, is an exception.
5th June. Again, up the valley some distance beyond yesterday's beat—some most likely places for game. We saw some ibex in an inaccessible place, and halted for the day.
At 2 P.M. we ascended, and gained a view of a fine stretch of open grassy slope beyond our halting place, where the valley makes a bend to the left. Here we stopped a couple of hours: nothing seen but a bear out of reach. We descended, and wended our way down valley.
A bear was seen: we went after him, and disturbed two bara sing hinds which were too knowing for us, so to our first attraction, whom we saw disporting himself on the snow which he cantered across. We were after him, when Subhan recoiled, saying there was another bear in the same spot just quitted by the first.
True enough—so after him; and I was crawling to a position about one hundred and twenty yards from him, when he twigged something wrong, and looked up. He cocked his ears, when I cocked the rifle, and fearing his flight I fired hurriedly, but hit him, I believe, well behind the shoulder. He started, and staggered—then came straight for us. I waited, prepared to give him second barrel. Passing a few paces above us on the side of the hill, he gave an angry roar as he cast a passing glance at us, and I gave him No. 2 somewhere in the ribs, whereat he winced, but rolled on his course and vanished, Mooktoo on his tracks, then the rest of us. But, sending Subhan to assist the former, Phuttoo and I went after the first bear on our homeward route, but saw nothing of him.
When a couple of miles or so from camp, a breathless villager met us, and said there was a bara sing down by the river, not far from camp. Much excited, he started off at a run. I made him walk, but talk, and that loudly, he would; and when he suddenly pointed out the bara sing in the valley below, he loudly proclaimed its presence. The animal was evidently attentive and alarmed; so an attempt we made to approach it was unsuccessful.
We made the bivouac; and from the prolonged absence of the two hunters we entertained delusive hopes that they had secured the wounded bear. But not so: they came in presently, having failed to get near the brute, which had betaken itself to a steep craggy height. I regret this loss much: he was a very large bear, of an unusually light colour, hair very long.
6th June. Off in a direction towards my late bivouac, a sharp frost and very cold. By the way, the frost was so severe on Monday, that the water just poured out in a pewter cup to clean my teeth was frozen over by the time I had washed my hands and face—pretty well for the 4th of June.
I saw nothing at all; went nearly as far as the bridge, and then returned to breakfast. Bear skins were laid out to dry—a sudden thought striking me, I told Mooktoo I would give five rupees 'backsheesh' for the skin of the wounded bear, escaped yesterday. He and Subhan have accordingly gone to try their luck, and I mean to go with Phuttoo in the evening to look for the bara sing in the willow bottom.
We went a short distance, but it did not put in an appearance this time when wanted. The two hunters returned in the evening reporting the bear to have gone miles away; but they had killed a female ibex, of which feat they were very proud, and the camp and the village rejoiced in the prospect of a feast of flesh; which, however, looked so uninviting that I declined it, and my servants, Hindoo fashion, would not eat it, because I would not; so the villagers had the more. I tipped the shikarries one rupee each; but doubt much if they took up the trail of the bear.
7th June. Remained in camp: resolved on an attempt on the ibex to-morrow.
8th June. An early start, and a stiff job climbing the mountain, which took us nearly two hours, and our toil was unrewarded by the sight of a single ibex. The hunters carefully reconnoitred the whole neighbourhood ineffectually.
Whilst at breakfast, they came and reported a bear in view, asleep under a tree. I descended to the assault over difficult ground; and Bruin, asleep with one eye open, was distrustful, and hearing the click of my rifle, when cocking, made off. I fired three shots, all striking him, and quite disabling him; two shikarries after him, who fired three shots close by, and after some time I saw the wounded bear crawling along, a considerable way off: after some time, three or four shots more, then silence—again, a shot or two. Phuttoo and I remained on the look out, wondering what the issue was; and thus for two hours, I think, we waited, once getting a glimpse of the hunters far below us in some jungle. They did, at length, return, bringing the bear's skin, upon which some ten bullets were expended, and reporting that they had wounded a female bara sing.
We remained up all day, though all hopes of ibex had been destroyed by the noise of the repeated discharges: descended in the afternoon, and going through some jungle I espied a deer, but could not get Subhan, who was leading, to acknowledge my low signal which a brawling stream close by drowned the sound of. I seized a rifle from Mooktoo, and fired: the animal bounded out of sight. Subhan followed to see the effect, and stopped, beckoning me on, so I knew the shot had told. Hurrying to him, he pointed to the animal stretched on the ground, and advised another shot which hitting the back, traversed the body, coming out at the left shoulder. It was but a kustoora after all, but a fine specimen, with long teeth protruding from the upper jaw.
9th June. Phuttoo and Mooktoo complaining of head aches, &c., Subhan came at dawn to my tent, suggesting remaining in camp till evening. I readily acquiesced, having had a hard day's work yesterday.
I started in the afternoon in a new direction; climbing the steep fir-clad hill opposite the village, we reached the crest where we hoped to meet with bara sing, but only saw their fresh tracks, so sat down to watch.
Subhan ascended higher with the telescope, and returned after some time reporting a bear as big as a bullock in sight, so we addressed ourselves to approach him. Descending the hill-side, a splendid and extensive grassy slope presented itself, along which we wended our way, and after about a mile's walk came upon the bear, truly a very large one, and justifying Subhan's comparison. I took my time to gain breath, and as we were well placed as regards covert and wind did not hurry; but, shifting position once or twice till satisfied, let drive Enfield, upon which Bruin turned bewildered, and dashed down hill, partly in our direction. I discharged the other barrel, also rifle, as he crossed a snow drift filling the bottom of a ravine. He still held on, and was commencing the ascent of the opposite hill, when I levelled Whitworth, and down he came spinning, rolling over and over, to the snow, and then slipping and sprawling down that, until he lay still, breathing his last.
The whole party was triumphant: the shikarries got down to him: his sides still heaved: the coolies came up, and, Subhan having by my order cut the animal's throat to extinguish the remaining sparks of life, they proceeded to take off the skin, and had opened it down the belly, when, to their terror and my horror, the poor beast came to life again, as it were, and with a violent movement uttered such a growl as sent his tormenters flying in all directions. I put an end to him by a ball in the head. This is another proof of their surprising tenacity of life.
He was truly a monstrous bear with huge limbs. This formidable beast, it was stated, was the terror of the villagers, having devoured many of their sheep, and put to flight some score of them, who with dogs, &c. attempted his destruction. There was great rejoicing over his destruction.
10th June. Sunday. Remained in camp as usual.
11th June. We moved camp this morning, as previously arranged to Busman, the opposite side of the valley, and I pitched my tent in a very picturesque spot, overlooking the village.
In the afternoon I went down valley, and killed a large doe bara sing, which unfortunately was heavy with young. I much regretted this, but the shikarries had no such scruples. They were delighted at possession of so much meat, and set to work 'con amore' to break up the carcase, a messenger being despatched to bring men from camp to carry in the flesh. I did not feel at all elated at this success; but general satisfaction pervaded my party.
One of the coolies, who accompanied the sepoy to Sirinuggur, arrived, bringing nothing whatever with him. He said the sepoy would be detained some days, until the Maharajah's arrival in the city, to whom he would make his statement personally. The Baboo, too prudent would not trust my letters to this coolie, by which I am much inconvenienced and vexed. The Kardar of Palgham would not either trust him with the rice, &c., which had been ordered; and further said he could not supply it, as there were five sahebs there to provide for. We, therefore, made arrangements for a man to start early to-morrow to Shanguz, to procure supplies there.
12th June. Up the valley leading to Bodicote in expectation of finding ibex. We had a tremendous climb which, though very toilsome, was not dangerous, but saw not a single ibex; we halted in a suitable spot to wait until evening, in hopes of game appearing. There was a bear in sight feeding below us, which, after some discussion, it was decided ought to be left unmolested, for fear the report of the guns might disturb ibex within hearing. Subhan went off to reconnoitre.
After breakfast I sat watching the bear which, having finished his meal, came in our direction, and on to the snow in the ravine below us, where, to my astonishment, he stretched himself out composedly to snooze, apparently approving of cool applications to a distended stomach. Subhan returned, and reported that he could see no ibex in any direction, but had seen their tracks with those of dogs in pursuit; so, auguring ill for our chance of those animals, we resolved to attack our unconscious neighbour below, and descended for that purpose, but could not get within a hundred yards of him; at which distance, aiming at his head, I despatched an Enfield, which just missed him, and off he went down the snow in the utmost amazement, and came nigh to breaking his neck, but pulled up, ploughing deep into the snow with his long claws, and sliding some distance—a most ridiculous object.
Having gained some three hundred yards thus, he stopped and looked all round. We remained quite still, concealed by a rock. He then slowly descended the rocks on our side, and, choosing a good site, there he seated himself, looking anxiously from side to side. We waited, hoping for an opportunity of quitting our position undiscovered: and so we remained for half an hour at least, when Subhan, thinking we could withdraw backwards out of sight, tried if it would do, and beckoning us we stealthily followed, and, having gained a screen, turned and again tried to renew our acquaintance with Bruin, who from the nature of the ground could not now be seen.
We continued to descend the rocks towards his supposed position, and had got close upon it without discovering him. Mooktoo, from behind, made signals of seeing him, but Subhan and I could not catch a glimpse of him, until we gained the projecting rock under which he was sleeping, again thinking himself secure. The wind lifting his long hair betrayed him. He was lying with his head towards us, not four yards off, his head concealed by the rock, so I struck him between the shoulders, when he dropped backwards, and away he rolled over and over, in a most surprising manner. I saw him at one time high in mid air, as he bounded from a projecting rock, as though he had been discharged from a mortar: and he went rolling down the precipitous ravine for, I should think, three quarters of a mile, much to the disgust of those who had to descend and skin him,—a very fine large skin, with long yellowish fur. We saw other bears as we descended in the evening, but out of reach, so we got nothing more. It was a very hard day's work. We had to cross a snowdrift over the river, in which was a large fissure, which, however, only required nerve to cross safely.
13th June. Off to the place where I killed the doe bara sing. After some time we saw a bear apparently in retreat up hill. Thinking it useless pursuing, I turned towards camp; but Subhan pointed out the bear stopping on the precise spot on which the bara sing had been cut up, probably picking up the refuse. I resolved to try for him, so we ascended, and, having gained our point, thought him clean gone, when I saw something move in the bushes—again thought I was deceived, when the shikarries twigged him in some bushes across the ravine—a long shot. I struck him with an Enfield, evidently a severe wound, bringing him down, and fired other guns at him, as after deceiving us, making as though he were going to die on the spot, he went off in the jungle. I sent the shikarries in pursuit, and ere long they appeared with the dead bear, drawing him down the snow—a small brute riddled with bullets.
On our way to camp we saw a fox with a splendid brush. I got within some eighty yards of him, and levelled Whitworth, steadying him on a rock—bang! and away went renard. Asking where the ball struck, the shikarries said, high up above the fox. I thought this very odd, and accused Phuttoo of putting in too much powder, who declared he had only put in the regular charge. Meantime, the fox was running up and down, and round and round, in an absurd manner, Mooktoo laughing at him, who sung out he had dropped dead, and ran off to secure him. Phuttoo and I, looking on, saw, as we thought, the animal betaking himself to the hills at a good pace, and called out to Mooktoo to come back, saying it was of no use. But on he went, not heeding us, and was soon seen striking something, and then held up the dead fox, another having run off, and deceived Phuttoo and me. The victim was shot right through behind the shoulders.
14th June. A rainy morning, with every appearance of a continuance—so, not unwillingly, I betook myself again to the comfortable warmth of my blankets.
In the afternoon I went in the same direction as yesterday, and seeing a bear high up on a hill, attempted to get at him—but in vain; scrambled about the heights, but, seeing nothing more, gave up and returned to bivouac.
15th June. Up ere dawn, a long day in prospect, it having been determined to shift camp to a village on the opposite side of the valley, and we hunters to climb a mountain, from which we should descend to the bridge leading to our new quarters in the afternoon.
When rather more than half-way up a bear was descried, to which we approached with due caution, but owing to the formation of the ground could not get nearer than some hundred and fifty yards; so that I fired at that distance, and struck him well in the middle of the shoulder. Recoiling from the blow, he then made straight for our position, and gained a rising ground just over us, when seeing us he paused, looking very ugly, then turned, when trying my other barrel, it missed fire, the cap being bad. We pursued and soon sighted the chase, in pursuit of which Subhan and Mooktoo continued, Phuttoo and I looking on—the mountain side, up which Bruin held his limping course, being spread out plainly before us; and we had the unsatisfactory view of the abortive efforts made to secure the wounded animal. The two hunters, not being able to see the wounded bear as we did, made slow progress, expecting to meet their foe at every step behind some rock; so Bruin, though slowly dragging along, and occasionally pausing to look back, made two paces to their one, and so disappeared over the crest of the mountain. Whereupon, Phuttoo and I set off to climb up and rejoin the others. And sharp work we had; but finally reached our two companions who, not sighting the game, had given up the chase in despair.
We again set forward to gain a favourable spot to pass the day in, where I proceeded to breakfast, the others retiring somewhere out of sight. Rain and sleet driven by a furious wind now set in, with thunder roaring majestically immediately above us. I screened myself as well as I could under a fir tree, and passed the chill hours, some two or three, reading.
A hind is seen coming forth to graze down below us; and the rain now ceasing we descended in chase, but could not get near the wary creature which, winding us, I imagine, from afar, was seen cantering smartly away, ere we were within long shot of it.
On reaching camp we found the man, despatched on the 12th for provisions, returned, having made a rapid journey. He had met the sepoy who had been detained at Sirinuggur, and they had made arrangements for the supplies required, now difficult to obtain from some unexplained cause. They had, therefore, to be collected from different villages, and the sepoy remained to convoy the bulk, Kamal, a trusty quiet-mannered fellow, bringing three coolies laden with him, also a complimentary note and presents from Ahmet Shah—some cherries and cakes—and from my stout friend of Eish Mackahm some of his bread cakes, before commended. By the way, he sent me a pair of gloves and socks by the coolie last coming.
16th June. Much rain during the night, but a fair fresh morning which I enjoyed much, reading. In the afternoon, forth to hunt.
Two hinds, young ones apparently, were seen descending the mountain. We tried to intercept them; but a ravine divided us. Lying concealed, we watched them gamboling beyond our savage hand's reach. They finally ascended the hill, and gradually retired from our sight. A plan was then formed to follow them, which took us up the mountain in a direction to cut their route. A stiff and smart climb landed us on the top; Subhan and Mooktoo went off to scout, Phuttoo and I lying in wait.
Two bears came in sight. Phuttoo and I, taking the rifles, moved towards them. The others joined us, having seen nothing: but not having yet examined the ground where the two deer must have passed, or might yet be, I ordered it to be reconnoitred 'en route' after the bears, and there was seen one deer lying down, its head and ridge of back only shewing—distance about eighty yards. I paused for breath behind a rise, the deer looking towards me; prepared rifle, and advanced a little on my knees to get a firmer footing: the deer rose, and standing erect presented its dun side full before me. Taking deadly aim I pulled trigger, when—horror and disgust—the cap only exploded. Away bounded the deer, and also the other—till now unseen, but lying still nearer to us. I fired the other barrel as they gently moved up hill, but ineffectually I believe. Away they went.
The guns had been kept all night in the covers which they were in during yesterday's rain. I had directed the shikarries always to take the leathern covers in the day time, and to put the woollen ones on at night, and had for some time enforced compliance. But of late they had departed from this rule. Finding the woollen covers more easily disposed about their persons, they had carried them in the day, and left them on at night. I think a strong impression was made upon them by to-day's mishap, as thereby they lose a good supply of meat, which is to them a great disappointment.
The two bears of course fled. And other game, both deer and bears, on the side from which we had come up, seen while in the ascent, had also vanished.
I determined to try another entire day on the same mountain on Monday, and then to move forward by the Sooroo Pass towards Ladâk, supposing the sepoy to arrive to-morrow. With him I expect a bullet mould for the Whitworth, having sent in one of the smooth cylindrical bolts as a pattern, the easiest of the two to manufacture, and which Phuttoo and the others assure me can be easily made in the city; so I left the matter in their hands. I did not bring a mould, thinking I had bolts enough with me for that weapon, but had not calculated on the astonishing vitality of the bears.
17th June. Sunday. A walk in the morning; and a delightful one it proved. On returning, the long absent sepoy and some coolies were in sight on the opposite side of the river, and in due time arrived with letters, newspapers, supplies, &c.
18th June. We made a very early start to carry out a plan arranged on Saturday night, to hunt a mountain on which we had seen bara sing. But, from some whimsical notion or other, the shikarries had altered their minds, and, passing by this spot, went on to where we stalked the deer on Saturday, attended by such bad luck. They are queer fellows, possessed of remarkably odd notions on hunting, quite at variance with the true science of the chase. They trust so much to luck, to 'kizmet.' I suppose, being Mahomedans, and hence fatalists, influences them on these points. I cannot say there is any charm in the character of these men, such as one might, perhaps, be disposed to attribute to the hunters of the Cashmere mountains. They are too strongly imbued with the duplicity and covetousness of their race, and they are deficient in those characteristics one loves to ascribe to the mountaineer and hunter—courage, truth, and candour. They do not ever like to exert themselves over much, and have a great regard for the comforts of a house, so that it is difficult to get them well away from the inhabited districts. They are, moreover, constantly begging for something; and, though one may give them double what they are entitled to, they will scheme to dupe you into giving them more, quoting fabulous experiences of the generosity and munificence of saheb so and so. Nor do I consider them by any means good hunters, their talents being confined to a knowledge of the country, and a quick sharp eye. They possess none of that pertinacity and resource which enable hunters to find game when scarce and wild, and to capture it with certainty when severely wounded. They are but poor trackers, and quickly give up all efforts at the pursuit of a wounded animal, if they think it may have gone far. How often I have longed for one or two of my old Australian native hunters! They were the fellows to run a tangled trail through bush or over bare rock, like hounds with the chase in view. Of my three shikarries, Phuttoo, Mooktoo, and Subhan, the latter is far the best and more attractive in character. He is young and willing, and is not yet spoiled, not having hitherto acquired all the wiles and tricks of such men as the other two, who are old allies, and work together for their mutual advantage. It is a great drawback to my pleasure in this excursion, not being able to repose confidence in these associates.
We went over a deal of ground, but arrived at the end of our beat without seeing anything; then pulled up for the day. Just as I was finishing breakfast, the hunters came, and informed me there was a bear in sight. I got up and accompanied them a short way up hill. Puffing and blowing, distended with tea and dough cakes, I made heavy way, and, having ascertained the bear to be a long way off in rough and difficult ground, I declined going after him, but sanctioned the attempt on the part of Subhan and Mooktoo, Phuttoo and I taking up a good position to see the fun. After a time we heard three shots in rapid succession; then saw the bear coming towards us. He sheered off, and went best pace up hill, evidently unscathed. Soon after, the hunters appeared, Mooktoo as usual shirking the hard work, and Subhan climbing the heights manfully, as though he intended to catch Bruin. At last they rejoined us.
In the evening we retraced our steps, and at length saw an old and a young bear far ahead of us. Having reached their whereabouts at dusk, I doubted whether to go after them; but, Subhan catching sight of them, I buckled to, and climbed the steep. We found our game, the young one only being visible at first, right under us: then the old one was detected also, and I fired down on her, aiming at and striking her between the shoulders, knocking her over: then, aiming at the young one, the gun did not go off, the cap, I fancy, having fallen off. The old bear scrambled up close to us, uttering fierce growls; then turned and made off. I fired two shots, one breaking a hind leg. Subhan pursued. The young one, a queer looking little brute, sat eyeing us from a height opposite, and I would not allow Mooktoo to fire at him. We followed the chase, and found the bear had fallen down hill into the jungle close by the river. It was too late and too dark to look for her then, so we took the route to camp, all feeling sure of finding her dead in the morning.
19th June. Off to retrieve the wounded bear. We got on its tracks, there being much blood on the trail, and tracked through a bit of jungle into some wet bushy ground, where the shikarries, no longer finding blood to guide them, gave up the chase, and, without examining the neighbouring bushes, turned back towards camp. Aware of the utter uselessness, from former experience, of endeavouring to incline them to continue the search, I went silently back.
20th June. We made an early start towards Shugkenuz. Mooktoo espied two bears in the old place where three were seen on our first coming this way, and on that evening I wounded two. We resolved to try for them, and, continuing our route on towards the bridge, I discovered another high up on our right. We started up, a long and tiresome climb before us; when, getting near the place where we had seen the bear, we found it had moved to the opposite side of the ravine. Our side was very difficult to move on, having a very steep and smooth surface, but bushes to screen us. The bear was wonderfully 'cute of hearing, turning at every snap of a dry twig. I made sure it would be off, but advanced with every caution to a spot where some slight noise was unavoidable, and could not get nearer without being exposed to view. Here Bruin, having looked up and reconnoitred repeatedly, moved upwards; then across the ravine, heading towards us. Mooktoo, excited, declared it to be coming towards us, so I took up as comfortable a position as I could, and prepared rifle. Sure enough Bruin's head appeared over a ridge, coming right for us. He halted, and scrutinized our locality, then advanced and paused; when—crack!—and over and over it rolled down the ravine.
It was a female. And the hunters account for its strange approach to us, by its having from the sound imagined its male friend to be at hand, which individual I had the honour to represent, so little to the satisfaction of the expectant fair one.
Leaving Phuttoo and Kamal to take the spoils, we continued our way, and, crossing the ridge, went in search of the bears first seen. Their place was vacant: no signs of them. But Subhan, having gone ahead, signalled us, and we found he had discovered a bear on the other side the stream which tumbled down this valley. Its movements were eccentric, and again ascribed to its being under the influence of the tender passion. However that may be, the lone one came down to the edge of the stream, there pausing awhile amid the bushes; when an Enfield ball took effect on its shoulder, and ere it recovered its surprise another followed. It was then discovered lying apparently dying under some bushes. Mooktoo went in pursuit, and shortly fired two shots. I then sent Subhan across to help, knowing Mr. Mooktoo to entertain the utmost reverence for a wounded bear, always preserving a respectful distance. Subhan crossed the stream, disappearing in the bushes, which were seen much agitated, bending to and fro, here and there,—a rush and the thwack of sticks being audible even above the roar of the torrent. Then all was still. Next, Subhan appeared at my side; he had settled the bear, with the result of which he was much pleased. It was but a small animal, but a very vicious young female.
We proceeded on to Shugkenuz: in the evening visited the same spot, but saw nothing.
21st June. I had determined yesterday to remain a day here, in order to make complete arrangements for coolies and supplies, as no village is met with between this and Sooroo; and we propose stopping to hunt midway some days, there being good ground for ibex there. I also expect the coolies back from Sirinuggur, a matter of consequence as lead is again running short, those tough bears causing such a consumption of that precious metal.
I started in the morning to hunt a valley across the river, and had proceeded far up the valley, when I perceived the back of a bear shewing above some high rank herbage up the hill-side. Up we went, and came on our prey, and a shot, entering just behind the shoulder, sent him rolling head over heels down hill: but I had to put a ball through his head to finish him.
Mooktoo had not accompanied us, having been lame the last two days from a boil. It is surprising how absurdly ignorant they are of the simplest principles of curative measures and remedies. His were wet gunpowder—because it was an European production, I imagine—and a bandage of woollen stuff. All ready for a move on the morrow.
22nd June. A march, and a long and fatiguing one to the northern extremity of the Wurdwan valley proper, where it narrows to a mere gorge, the mountains closing in and overhanging the pent up torrent, frowning down in savage grandeur—the scenery very wild and striking. We had to cross the river on the snow, and to move over extensive snow drifts covering the steep slope of the bank: the very precarious footing, and the torrent roaring below, made this part of the journey exciting. I was troubled with a badly-fitting sandal which much impeded my movements, and increased the danger of falling, at the same time fatiguing me greatly. Subhan did what he could for me, but was unable altogether to remedy the evil. The river made a sudden turn, coming from due east at right angles into the valley, (which runs, I imagine, pretty direct north and south) up which we continued our course, now very rugged, and at length, to my relief and comfort, halted in a small, irregular, up and down opening, by a large piece of rock which afforded us some protection from the sun, now become excessively hot after ten o'clock. A great but gradual change has taken place as the season has advanced. The mornings and evenings are now cool, not cold, and the days very hot, the sun so powerful as to render my small shuldary tent quite an oven. I try to diminish the temperature by putting my double blanket on the top; but still I suffer much, and find a tree, where there is one at hand, better protection by far.
My followers were very long in appearing, and I felt some anxiety for my servants' safety in so hazardous a path, but was gratified by the simultaneous presence of all three, as I awoke from a troubled doze. The coolies also arrived without accident of any sort.
I went in the afternoon up river to reconnoitre, and had the pleasure of seeing some half-dozen ibex, venerable fellows, with long horns and beards, but on the opposite side of the river, and in a place the approach to which made me shudder to look at. But the attempt must be made to-morrow.
One coolie arrived from Sirinuggur, bringing lead; the other, the duly deputed one, remaining behind to see the Baboo, and deliver his credentials, that individual being absent at some devotional gathering of the pundits at some sacred shrine, most likely devising roguery—therefore, no letters, papers, or bullet mould. Ibex had been seen from camp.
23rd June. Off in pursuit of the ibex seen yesterday. We descended to the river which we crossed on the snow, and up the opposite side,—ibex seen above us.
We lay down to reconnoitre. Two ibex, male and female, were coming in our direction from the heights in the rear. Their intention becoming apparent to continue in our direction, we climbed up to intercept them, and a rough scramble it was. After raising our hopes to the utmost, they turned aside and disappeared. On again—crossing a remarkable place of semicircular form, where the earth appeared to have parted from the mountain, and slipped sheer down into the river, so that an extensive indent of semicircular form remained, its surface loose and smooth, with a harder gravelly ridge forming a ledge, from which it descended sheer to the river. The mountains were of bare rock, rearing sharp peaks of every form high into the heavens. In the further angle, however, of this crescent of desolation, was a knoll covered with gnarled dwarf birch trees and rough underwood. To this we directed our course, and, when gained, it was as nice a spot as could be desired for a hunter's watch stand.
In the course of the day several ibex were seen crossing the slope, having been alarmed by the fall of some pieces of rock which, detached from above, came rattling down near them. We watched them anxiously, hoping they might come our way. But no: they chose the crags. A bear and two 'wee' cubs also came seeking more secure quarters, and evidently bound for our trees; but, winding us some five hundred yards distant, the anxious dam turned about, after several long sniffs, and went off in a different direction.
But one ibex, a buck, remained on the slope where he employed himself, I believe, in licking salt, of which the shikarries tell me there is much in the earth, and which attracts the ibex to this remarkable spot in numbers. After watching his movements for a long time, and it appearing pretty sure that he meant to remain there some time, Subhan and I started on the forlorn hope of stalking him; a feat of great difficulty, as, though the wind was in our favour, the quantity of stones and detritus we had to pass over to get to him—there being in fact no other footing—rendered it impossible to move without sending some detached fragments from this huge loose mass rattling below. Then, the difficulty of moving at all on this steep surface was great. We took advantage of the stunted brushwood to screen our approach, moving on only when the animal, ever looking around after a bite or two, put down his head.
This tedious mode of advance under a broiling sun continued some time; when the animal, being satiated, suddenly descended behind the low ridge on the top of which he had hitherto held post. Then we pushed on, Subhan too impetuous, the loose stones talking loudly. However, we got to fifty yards of the spot, Subhan still going ahead, head down, when I saw the horns, then the head, of the suspicious chase appear above the ridge. Checking Subhan, down we lay, the forepart of our bodies only screened by some dry twigs of brushwood. I took the rifle, and, raising it, found the ramrod hanging out. Putting my hand to the muzzle, I drew it in—the ibex now in full view, shewing his breast, a fine mark. But from the attitude I was in, lying on my right side, with nothing but loose stones to scratch at, I could not, for the life of me, find means to poise the gun and take aim. Subhan lying in front of me on his side, I tried to rest the gun on him, but could only bring it to bear by pressing on the slope of his shoulder as he lay, which afforded no rest. The animal's quick eye now detected the convulsive twitchings of my limbs, and, giving a shrill whistle, he presented his side at which I pulled trigger as he bounded away. A smack was heard, which we hoped was the ball telling, and away we went, but saw the ibex slowly bounding away. He paused at the foot of a rock, wagged his tail rapidly, and vanished with a dive into a gulley.
Subhan, thinking him wounded, pursued. I had also great hopes from the sound, notwithstanding the difficulty of my position; but, on examining the ground whereon the animal stood, I found the spot where the ball struck at his feet, the rifle having slipped down the slope of Subhan's shoulder as I hastily pulled trigger on the startled animal. Subhan returned, discomforted exceedingly. And, repining at the extreme ill luck at being surprised in such an impracticable position, we rejoined our equally disappointed comrades who had been eagerly following our every movement through the telescope. We gained the ground on which the fine old patriarchal long-beards had been seen yesterday—now, alas! where? Far beyond our ken. We returned on our steps; had terrific hard climbing up and down; and I arrived at the bivouac thoroughly done up, with a pain in the back from straining up hill, which may necessitate rest.
While lying waiting on the mountain side, I observed a spot on the river below us, where from the contiguity of certain rocks dividing the stream, it appeared feasible to throw a bridge over, plenty of wood being within reach. But I observe that almost close to this spot the pines and firs cease, and nothing but the dwarf birch appears; and a mile or two further on even this wood ceases, and only bare rock is visible. The shikarries promise to have a bridge made, which will then afford us easy access to some good ibex grounds, now very difficult to get to.
24th June. Sunday. I was very well inclined to enjoy the repose this day brings with it: my back stiff, and an occasional sharp twinge in the lumbar regions, painfully reminded me of my fruitless exertions yesterday. I took a stroll in the afternoon. The shikarries and coolies went to build the bridge.
25th June. I started off to the place where the bridge had been commenced yesterday, but could not be completed owing to the quantity of water, from the melted snows. It was to be finished this morning, the coolies first bringing my things here. We saw some fine ibex on the very crest of the mountain opposite, and resolved to try and get at them in the evening.
The things arrived, and the coolies set to work at the bridge. I made a hearty breakfast, and afterwards went to watch the operations. The rough poles were now across, and the shikarries proposed starting at once. I did not much relish the thoughts of the climb just after breakfast, and the sun exceedingly warm, but acquiesced; so off we went, and crossing this apology for a bridge over the furious torrent was no easy matter. I had to collect my nerves for the attempt. The poles were laid first from one bank to a large, high piece of rock, and from that down to another much lower, and then from that to the other bank: they were very crooked and loose, and moved about and sprung under the pressure of the foot. But I crossed safely, and then breasted the mountain. It was dreadful hard work. After many halts we reached the upper regions, where we found it quite cold, a strong sharp wind blowing. The shikarries went to scout, and returned with the provoking information, that they had watched the ibex which had betaken themselves to a distant and inaccessible portion of the mountain.
Something must be attempted after such an arduous ascent. I determined not to go down without an effort at any rate, so proposed to sleep up on the mountain, sending a coolie to bring some clothes and eatables. This was decided on. Then, looking for a place to wait in till evening, I descended a short way towards a tremendous ravine which cleft the mountain from crest to base, running nearly in a direct line for a couple of miles, its sides of bare rock, precipitous, and rugged. Above this I lay down in no very agreeable state of mind at the prospects before me.
About 3 P.M. I saw the identical five fine ibex emerge, and file slowly across the opposite hill-side. I watched them eagerly without a movement, lying on my back, till they disappeared over the ridge. One was a splendid old fellow, with huge horns, and moved very leisurely behind the others. How I longed to be within reach of him! The shikarries, who had occupied other places to watch, soon joined me, excited by the same sight. We were preparing to move, when two more ibex were seen following in the track of the others. We had to wait till they were out of sight: then, off we went, and had hard work to cross the ravine, and ascend the opposite hill of slate and snow, steeply scarped. We gained the crest, and found the ibex were down on a level open slope, far out of reach, and hardly possible to approach. Here was a disappointment. After a long consultation a plan was formed, we hunters to make a 'detour,' and then the coolies to descend towards the game, and let them be aware of his presence.
It being so arranged, up and away: and after further violent exertions we reached the part of the mountain under which the ibex had been seen feeding—most difficult ground, being very steep, and either of smooth slate, or fragments affording no footing. We gained the top of the ridge. Subhan unfortunately did not reconnoitre, but made a turn to the left to gain a passage through the much-broken rock, when suddenly he shrunk to the ground, as the horns and heads of two magnificent ibex came into view, emerging from a narrow cleft and coming towards us. They, of course, saw us. We were not thirty-five yards apart. Now, to record what took place I can hardly undertake, nor do I exactly know how it happened. The heads, and necks, and ridge of back, of the ibex were alone visible, a piece of rock screening their bodies. No doubt, I was discomposed and flurried by their unexpected appearance so near, and under some unaccountable influence did not at once take aim, from some undefined notion that they would offer a better mark immediately, and for fear of frightening them by any movement. I was, moreover, in a most uncomfortable squatting position on a steep slope. After a second or two one moved forward, and, unfortunately, instead of the movement bringing him better into view, it had the opposite effect, for the ground dipped so that the animal was instantly out of sight; the other moving on, I fired and missed. I was then obliged to rise up to see him. He had not dashed off at the discharge, but moved on at a slow pace, as though quite unconcerned. His whole side was presented as I rose in much agitation to aim, and just as I raised the rifle he dashed down hill, my bullet passing harmlessly over his back. I rushed after him, risking neck or limbs, heedless of every thing but the chase, my second gun in hand: sighted him—on again, when I was brought up by a fearful precipice, a huge abrupt chasm severing the mountain: leaning and peering over, I saw the two ibex below, but was so blown I vainly tried to take aim, so, as the distance was great, gave it up.
I was still looking after the retreating game, when Subhan signalled something exciting, and we found he had spied other four ibex in sight, far off. We assayed to get at them. Our coolie was in sight, and the ibex, taking fright, after a turn or two, made off in our direction, but far away below us. Down we dashed in chase to cut them off. But, ignorant of their point, we failed—with our utmost efforts, and after many slips and escapes, arriving to see them, having crossed the lower end of this chasm, canter off up the opposite hill-side. The shikarries urged me to fire, so putting up sights, hopeless myself, I sent two or three bullets very close to them—that was all.
It was no use to remain up now, so I decided to return to camp, a long and difficult step. We saw coolies down below with the things, descended to them, and found the long absent messenger from Sirinuggur there.
He had letters, newspapers, and the bullet mould for me. This somewhat allayed the unpleasant reflections I was a prey to, and broke in upon my brooding over my mishap; and, on Subhan expressing an intention to move camp onwards in the morning, I suggested that he and Mooktoo should instead try and get at these ibex. They did not appear half inclined for the job, I thought. And no wonder, considering the amount of work we had done.
All the camp was out in evident expectation of our success, hoping for meat. Long faces, when the result was known. My mishap did not prevent my eating my dinner; but it was interrupted oft-times by melancholy ejaculations, and sighs, and groans. I had confessed all to the sympathising Abdoolah, and told him my heart was pained at losing such fine ibex. My Hindostani was not equal to the requisite idiomatic phraseology, I suppose; for, on my shortly retiring to my tent, he followed me, and put his head into my tent. On enquiring what he wanted, "he had come," he said, "to offer to rub my stomach to relieve the pain I complained of." I know I said 'heart,' and not 'stomach.' But this circumstance operated beneficially, and I retired to bed thoroughly knocked up, but mentally serene.
26th June. I was disturbed at an early hour by a rumbling under my bed: the two hunters were getting out the guns. "Mind you bring back the big horned one," I said, and again relapsed into peaceful, strength-restoring slumbers. When up, I set to work to cast bullets, and found the mould for the Whitworth most ingeniously constructed, but with a great deal more art than was actually necessary. The bolt was not true, however, the base of the cylinder being larger than the upper part; but I thought that this could be remedied by the use of the knife and file, though at considerable expense of time and trouble. And so it turned out.
There were letters from Punnoo, Vizier, assuring me the offending villagers should be punished, and from the Baboo on matters of business, and lots of newspapers which were most acceptable.
About 2 P.M. I saw Mooktoo returning alone. He immediately beckoned me. I guessed his object, and called out to the coolies to bustle up and be off to help the shikarries—that they would now find lots of meat. There was a general stir and excitement in the bivouac, all turning out to gaze upon the approaching Mooktoo, still a long way off on the other side the river. He carried something evidently; and, on one of the coolies reaching him, he threw down his load which we then perceived to be the head of an ibex, with fine horns.
He shortly joined us, and proclaimed the welcome news of four fine ibex being the result of their chase. All the coolies were despatched to help Subhan who, in the course of three or four hours, made his appearance with a long train of followers bearing heads and limbs. There were great rejoicings at this great success, and the prospect of a general feast of flesh. I looked mournfully on the unfortunate victims, taking little pleasure in their destruction, as I had not enjoyed the excitement of the chase which was, by the hunters' accounts, a most arduous and perilous one. They had been long traversing the mountains without a sign of game, and were returning, when an ibex was viewed, and following him they had to climb terrific crags; to do which they had even to take off their sandals, and, slinging their guns, climb up on all fours. They became separated, and were in much apprehension for each other's safety. But all turned out most happily for their sport; for Subhan was surprised by a fine buck coming out of a ravine, and presenting him a fair broadside. He knocked him over; when another took his place. He then disposed of that one, and others were thus turned down to Mooktoo who floored his brace, and wounded another. Two or three fell down the precipitous crags, and were consequently much knocked about, but the horns were luckily uninjured. I decided to halt tomorrow to prepare the heads, &c.
27th June. All remained busy in camp, stretching skins, and preparing heads. Rain fell during the day. In the afternoon, it having cleared up, leaving Phuttoo working at the heads, the other two and I went off on the chance of seeing something; but heavy rain again set in, and we returned drenched to camp.
28th June. We struck camp, and set off to next ground. The morning was heavy and cloudy, and it was an uninteresting march along the river bed, here very shallow, and broken into many streams. The mountains, on either hand, were steep and craggy, and their lower slopes, on the southern side, clothed with underwood, dwarf birch, &c., but, on the north side, covered with grass, not a tree or shrub to be seen there. The slopes came right down to the river banks, affording hardly a spot, here or there, on which to pitch a tent. The valley, running east and west, is narrow and wild. We arrived at the camp ground, a rough spot, completely covered with wild leeks or onions, like a cultivated bed. Rain came on, and we hunters were in a poor plight—no shelter whatever, and all the wood and herbage so wet we could not raise a fire for an hour, though every dodge was resorted to: my feet, being saturated, were miserably cold.
The tent and other things were late arriving: the rain turned to snow, and it became bitterly cold; and in the afternoon the snow lay three or four inches deep, even on the low ground.
29th June. I awoke after a bitter cold night, which much interfered with my sleep and comfort. The snow still lay on the ground; but the clouds breaking, giving an occasional gleam of sunshine, every thing was put out to dry.
My dog Sara had been very busy yesterday working, scratching, and digging, at a marmot's burrow. There are numbers of these quaint creatures here constantly seen sitting upright, and uttering a shrill whistle, like the sound of a dog whistle. He continued his operations in the most indefatigable manner to-day; and, having nothing else to do, all set to work to help him unearth the 'varmint'—no easy job, as his earth was under a huge piece of rock. However, at last the poor little beast was assailed in his citadel, and he fought viciously, tooth and claw, but was finally secured by nooses passed over his hind feet, and then dragged ignominiously out to the public gaze. Sara made a rush on him, and tackled him, but not relishing his teeth withdrew from the contest, and I put the poor thing out of further pain by two or three blows on the head.
30th June. We moved on to new ground reported to be frequented by ibex. Several parties, coming down this path, profess to have seen them. Phuttoo, who has been ailing some days, I think from rheumatism, remained to accompany the main body. We, of the light division, came on ahead, and found the carcase of an ibex fresh killed, and partly devoured by wild dogs. This is a terrible blow to our hopes, as in all probability the ibex have been harassed and frightened away from this place. From the camp ground nothing whatever can be seen in the way of game, though the hills look very likely.