There is much in Murad's statement which one would wish clearer. Why has he so long delayed communicating with the friends of the deceased? Merchants have gone to and fro, and enquiries have been made by government, but now three years have elapsed he turns up with a bond worth 3,600 rupees, and otherwise in good circumstances. His brother's aid may account for this, certainly. I hate to suspect any one. Bella Shah and the thanadar, Basti Ram, stated the Bokhara servant to have been an accomplice to the theft and murder. However, I have taken the man's statement for truth, and lest he should meet with molestation at Ladâk, or elsewhere, on his journey down, have offered him my protection, giving him clearly to understand that he is perfectly free to pursue his journey and objects, if he chooses. He expresses himself most anxious to stay with me; saying, he feels sure that Basti Ram would seize the relics, and send them to the British government on his own account. Not improbable. Murad, therefore, leaves the party of merchants with whom he has hitherto travelled—and they number some two or three hundred horses, I am told—and joins my party to-morrow.
After dinner I went out to a fire lit for me, it being excessively cold, a bitter wind still blowing, the concluding blast of a storm which has covered the adjoining mountains with snow. My principal retainers gathered round, and talked over the story of Murad, and canvassed its merits. Many doubts were expressed as to his veracity and complete innocence. I now sent for the Yarkandi, thinking it advisable to lose no time in sending for additional supplies, as some twelve days must elapse ere their arrival. The old man came, and took up a berth among the others, and negociations went on rapidly. He entered into our views with alacrity, and promised to procure the flour and corn we required, some rice, and a quantity of fruit, apples, grapes, apricots, and melons, as a present for me. He said, this stock should be laden on horses which I might purchase, if I pleased. He was to receive six rupees in advance, for which I went to my tent, and on my rejoining the group he had withdrawn to give directions to one of his servants to start on this business in the morning. Everything now seemed to work smoothly, and promise success.
26th August. Sunday. I slept well, and waited to gain a glimpse of sunshine under the tent ere turning out. There had been a sharp frost during the night, and it was a beautiful, clear, fresh morning. I sat in my chair idly sunning myself, when a sense of the sanctity of the day, and an imperative impulse to express it, took hold of me; and I made my way through the thick bushes to the river, where its divided waters poured noisily over many boulders, and, selecting a stone for a seat, gave myself up to devotion.
Coming back to camp, I was met by Abdoolah who told me that the old man, who had promised to do so much, now declared that he dared not venture to send for any supplies for me, lest the Yarkand authorities, hearing of it, might wreak their vengeance upon him. He had come to this conclusion on consulting his servants. This was most unexpected. Food for man and beast must be had; so, enquiring of Moosa the distance to this man's residence, I resolved to fulfil my hunting plans, then to return, bringing the patriarch with me 'nolens volens,' and, so accompanied, proceed to his village, and there obtain supplies by force, if needs must: the constraint put upon the old man would secure him from harm. I then bethought me of ascertaining what stock should remain, and found by my account that there should be twenty days' rations for men, but very little for horses. Thus there would be enough for ten days shikar, and ten days to Panamik, and then corn might be procured from some kafila. I now directed an order to be written to the gopal of Panamik to send out a horse-load of flour and corn to the foot of Sassar, on this side; which note was despatched to the merchants just starting for delivery, and I hope we shall have enough without adopting my scheme of violence and rapine.
Murad joined my party with his brother and three horses, and, to my dismay, has brought with him neither atta nor corn. I have directed him to obtain stock from some of the passing travellers who are yet expected in numbers—crowds of hajis now proceeding to Mecca, their pious pilgrimage having been checked these last three years by the mutinies, perhaps. This he promises to do. He brought a German book, a volume of scientific geography, having no owner's name in it, but being purchased, he said, in the bazaar of Andejan, doubtless poor Schlagentweit's property. He brought the pillow containing the head, and was proceeding to open it, but I desired him to desist.
The bunderbus is complete for a move to-morrow, the old Yarkandi expressing the utmost willingness to shew me the hunting grounds. I take provisions for four days, and look for sport ere my return; until when, I must leave this my diary.
27th August. Under the guidance of the old Yarkandi's servant who bore the long rifle, with only my bedding and three days' provision, we started on our hunting excursion up the valley. We had but about five miles to go, then bivouacked amid the brushwood opposite a deep gorge running far back into the mountains, where we were to try our luck after the yâk. I had expected to commence operations this afternoon, but the Yarkand hunter objected, on the just ground of the wind blowing up the ravines in the day time, and down them early in the morning, therefore advising a very early start. I dined at five, and at sunset went to the fire, where, summoning the Yarkandi and Moosa to interpret, we questioned him as to the nature of the ground we were to go over to-morrow, the habits of the kutass, as he calls the yâk, and the prospects of sport. He said, the place was not far, and the yâk plentiful, and that we were sure of finding them, as he had never yet failed to do in this spot; he had been hunting here some three months back, and with two other men had killed nine, three of them close by us. This intelligence set us quite cock-a-hoop.
28th August. We were all afoot ere dawn, and off up the mountain. Having gained some distance, we came upon tracks which in the dull light we pronounced recent, and continued our toilsome ascent, cheered by the discovery. A bitter sharp wind came off the snows, cutting one's face like a knife, and here, as in all this region, respiration was most difficult. The Yarkandi, to my surprise, suffered more than any of us from this inconvenience, stopping every ten or a dozen paces for relief. We reached the grassy slopes under the snows, where yâk were wont to be invariably found; but, one after the other, they were anxiously reconnoitred, and found blank. As the light had increased, I carefully examined the tracks, and felt sure they were many days old. The Cashmiries were quite at fault here; they are truly indifferent hunters. We now ascended a steep sharp ridge which gained us admission to a lot of ravines, in which the Yarkandi made sure of a find; but these we traversed with like ill success, and then, having stopped an hour for refreshment, went on to a third favourite haunt, equally empty, and the signs of the same date. While resting on a ridge, we saw a kyang crossing a hill-side behind us: he looked like a large donkey, with a disproportionately large head. The wind being adverse, we could not attempt to do anything with him. The traps and attendants had been ordered up the main valley to the entrance of another gorge, for which we now directed our steps; and, after a tiresome descent, and a long tramp over a shelving flat of some six miles, we reached our camp, much beat, and our anticipations greatly reduced: yet the Yarkandi persisted in the most confident assurances of success, and said we must inevitably find to-morrow. I turned in, in a snug bower which Buddoo had constructed for me in the bushes.
29th August. We were off again, ere the first blush of dawn, and, entering a wide ravine, held our course up it. Numerous tracks of yâk were seen, but none fresh. After two hours' gradual ascent came the pinch, a steep slope up the mountain, on which, to our joy, we met with fresh tracks, unmistakably fresh, and our spirits rose accordingly. Our path lay up a wide ravine, penetrating into the mountain-side, and giving entrance to a wide basin-like indent, on the level bottom of which were extensive patches of grass, on which were plainly visible recent signs of yâk. We crossed a steep rocky ridge, abutting into the basin, and shutting one re-entering angle from view, but, to our infinite chagrin, all was void as before—signs fresh and plentiful. Here we halted for breakfast.
It was now proposed to ascend one side enclosing this basin, and, resting on the summit, examine the adjoining ravines, and wait the probable appearance of yâk, from out some retreat or other, to feed on the grass below us. We climbed accordingly, and found a yâk path leading over the ridge, and fresh signs of their passage. Here we lay down some couple of hours. Looking about, I saw a ravine towards which I felt sure the yâk had gone, from the converging tendency of their footprints, and communicated my ideas to Phuttoo who made an examination, and confirmed my suspicions; and we decided that we would explore that spot after a while. Shortly after came Subhan, all excitement and pleasure; he had from a high point, commanding the said ravine, therein distinctly made out the objects of our search. Now all was bustle and preparation. Subhan described the animals to be so situated that there appeared no reasonable doubt of complete success; and I only thought of how many I should knock over, and told Subhan he must scrutinise the herd, and discover the position of a huge bull whose enormous footprints had been the object of our admiration. We held much sanguine talk of this kind, as we descended towards the prey in expectation. But, alas! it turned out that the game was far away up the ravine, some three miles; that the wind blew strongly straight on them; and there was but the one direct path up to them—no side-slip by which to turn their flanks. But yet, there they were; and, scanning them through my glass, I counted, big and little, sixty-three. There being apparently nothing else for it, we advanced, hoping from the favourable direction in which the clouds moved there might be also a favourable current of wind further up the ravine: so we made the attempt to stalk these wary animals whose power of scent, their principal security, it is said is wonderfully acute and far-reaching. And so we found it. We approached right well, as far as concealment from sight went; but the brutes winded us, and gradually drew away. This leisurely retreat deceived the shikarries who pressed me to pursue, in spite of my repeated assurances that it would be utterly futile. Having hunted the bison in the west of India, I was up to this seeming apathy to our approach.
Subhan, as always, eagerly leading, kept on the advance, until we suddenly viewed the whole herd, closely packed together, moving slowly forward, out of shot. The shikarries would have it that they were not alarmed; so we made an onward move again to gain a rise, whence they hoped my battery might open with effect, though at a long range, on so dense a mass. We gained the stony height, but found the herd again scattered, some still retiring in the distance, others lying down, some feeding at some six hundred yards off, but with a smooth slope separating us, which offered no chance of getting at them. Here we lay behind stones, watching, admiring, and longing. From hence I saw the huge old bull of the enormous foot-prints, carrying a very heavy pair of horns, slowly and, as I thought, feebly descending behind a rise: others, fine fellows, lay down on the rise. We waited long, hoping against hope; till at last evening, growing apace, and the frosty air admonished us that we must make up our minds what to do. I had no covering but the suit I wore, and nothing to eat, so that passing the night here on guard was out of the question. Subhan proposed a dash at the enemy for a chance shot—so like him! I proposed to withdraw quietly, and seek the foe next day; so the decision was left to Moosa who directed the retreat. Back we went; and now a terrible long trudge awaited us, and it was long after dark ere the straggling party following Subhan and self had come in, some quite sick, Mooktoo and the Yarkandi 'hors-de-combat,' and all thoroughly fatigued. I, therefore, proposed to remain in camp to-morrow, and send back for more provisions, on arrival of which in the afternoon we would shift quarters, moving up the mountain near to the place the yâk were left in.
30th August. Moosa returned about 4 P.M.; and as soon as the fasting hunters had cooked some bread, we started for our new quarters which we reached at dusk. We were yet a long way from the yâk ravine, but at any rate two hours nearer. There were no bushes here for shelter, so I selected a hollow trench-like place for my couch, Subhan digging up the ground to soften it; and, on arrival of the traps, I was not long ere I sought the protection of my blankets, first fortifying the inner man with a little well-diluted eau-de-vie, there being no fire, no tea. I rose up once or twice, and looked around on the imposing mountain scenery which the moon lit up with her softly bright clear beams; and again dived into the woolly comforts of my blankets. But ere the night was half spent, a change came over it. I awoke feeling that something unusual was taking place, and lo! the surface of the earth was sheeted with snow, and I was fast disappearing under its fleecy mantle. I luckily had a long felt namba which extended beyond my pillow, covering my head, and I drew the blankets over and round my shoulders, and quite closed myself in. The snow drifting pressed upon me, and kept me warm. But I got too hot from the confinement of my breath, and was forced to stir myself, and open a hole for ventilation; when unluckily moving the namba over my pillow, down came an avalanche of cold snow about my shoulders. Clearing this away as well as I could, I made a hole on one side at which to place my mouth, and once more resigned myself to await events—not, perhaps, thoroughly comfortable, yet enjoying the novelty of the situation. I gave many an anxious thought to my poor attendants whose voices reached me occasionally. Perceiving dawn approaching, through my peep-hole,
August 31st, I at once disencumbered myself of namba and snow, and proceeded to survey the surrounding scene. Everything was buried. My followers looked miserable enough, poor fellows! but there was no real suffering. All was soon recovered, and in marching trim, and we set off for our hunting ground. It was very bad travelling, the natural difficulties being much increased by the melting snow. The wind blew downwards, and we augured favourably of our day's chances. But hardly had we gained the long ravine, where we hoped to find the game, than the wind shifting blew directly upwards. We halted some time hoping for a favourable change, as the clouds, as on the previous day, were sailing towards us rapidly. But we waited in vain: so, there being nothing in sight, we went on upwards, and reached a point whence a general view being obtained revealed bare grounds only. Here we breakfasted in a storm of sleet; and then we spread ourselves out to search for tracks, which appeared to take downwards some two or three miles, then across the high ridge westward; in which direction Moosa and the Yarkandi said there was no knowing were to find the animals. We continued looking for tracks, hoping that some of the yâk might have separated, and gone to the place we searched the other day. For this we pointed, and I had given orders to climb the high ridge intervening, when the wind suddenly shifted, coming down upon us violently with a fall of sleet, and from a quarter that would have given the yâk, if any, our wind. I then said it was useless going on, and the shikarries, dreading the fatigue, cheerfully assented; but there being a yâk's head and horns on the other side, poor Tar-gness, much against his will, was directed to make his way over, and bring the same to camp, we ourselves turning at once in that direction. We reached our bivouac, having passed, in an angle of the torrent's bed, under a precipitous cliff, a number of nâpu horns, none of which animals we have seen.
I ordered the traps to be packed and taken below, intending to go into standing camp to-morrow. Snow had long since disappeared, save on the mountain summits, and the descent was tolerably easy. Soon after our arrival came Tar-gness in great excitement, having seen no less than thirteen yâk, of sizes, in the basin we had intended visiting, when that untoward change of wind made us give up our intention, and return. A consultation decided that Abdoolah should go in for provisions tomorrow, and bring out the shikarries' ponies, and we ourselves resolved to start at 3 A.M. for the yâk.
By the way, I have omitted to mention that Kamal was sent on Thursday with orders that, if on reaching camp he found they had not been able to procure supplies from passing travellers, he was to make the best of his way, with a Bhooti, to Chanloong, and there having got three mds darra, and two mds atta, to bring the same on tattoos with all despatch to meet us; so that with this, and that previously written for, we ought to manage well.
We chatted long at the fire, hoping that our luck was at last turning. I told the shikarries that to-morrow was the first of September, and explained to them our game laws in respect thereof; and I myself really, amid all my disappointments, had a sort of superstitious feeling that this sporting date would be signalised by the slaughter of yâk. Impressing upon the shikarries the necessity of as early a start as possible, not later than 3 A.M., I turned in, and, awaking once or twice, examined my watch by the bright moonlight; the first time it was 12—then, 2—then, 2.30, when I roused myself,
1st September, And was up, and dressed before 3. The moon was beautifully bright, and full, or almost so; our path, therefore, opened plainly before us. It was, however, very cold, and freezing sharp; and the way was long, and the ascent laborious. On reaching the base of the steep slope, leading direct to the basin, we stopped some time; then, slowly struggling upwards, pausing every fifty paces, we gained the upland, the light now becoming dawn well opened. Nothing met our view on attaining the general level of the basin. But there were many dips and hollows: cautiously advancing, we examined them, and they were all empty. Tar-gness was sent up the ridge, and had gained such an elevation as I thought would discover every nook; and, saying so to Subhan, I proposed to move on to the spot where the head and horns, before mentioned, lay. As we moved on, Tar-gness broke into violent gesticulations, and came springing down; and, when we could get an intelligible reply from him, informed us that he had discovered two yâk moving up a hollow near us. Now all was excitement and preparation; guns were uncased, and the shikarries only to the front. The wind was right, and everything seemed such as to ensure success; when, as we stole forward, we saw a yâk on the hill-side over the hollow; another, and another, came in view, moving upwards, cropping a blade of grass here and there, and looking about them. I fully believe they were systematically reconnoitring, having acquired some suspicions. They turned, and three of them lay down on the hill-side. Here was a predicament. We could not stir without certain discovery; so we squatted as patiently as we might. It was bitterly cold, the ground covered with hoar frost. We waited and watched, and watched and waited, when all but one impracticable animal moved down into the hollow. This one, in the most elevated position, commanding a view of the whole plateau, remained watchful, and, I believe, uneasy, every now and then giving an impatient flourish of its bushy tail. All we had yet seen were females. What was to be done? I proposed to station myself in the line of their probable retreat, and send men round to give them the wind. Subhan disapproved, and the other two seemed to have no idea of their own on the subject, trusting all to luck, to 'kizmet,' not even venturing an opinion.
Well, we waited some hours in this icy locality, not being able to stir for cloaks or breakfast. Looking up from a doze, into which all had fallen under the sun's genial influence, I saw yâk moving upwards—one, two, three—then off bounded our persevering sentry, cantering off, whisking her tail, and leading the way over the ridge. Then out came others in succession, to the number of twenty-five, old and young, a fine bull in rear, and took their way up the ridge, disappearing over its crest. This was the ridge running into, and dividing, this plateau; so, as there was a nice grassy flat on the other side, we were charmed with the move, and our improved prospects. Away we went, making the best of our way over the stones, and crossed the spur of the hill, instead of the crest—fatal error of our leader, Subhan—and, gaining the reverse, to our surprise saw nothing. The herd had vanished. We moved along the hill-side, and found the tracks leading into the bight of the bay, as it were; and there, sure enough, was our chase. But the wind was now blowing direct to them, and our wary, active, suspicious foe already indicating alarm, and mischievously elevating her tail. There were only about twelve in view; the others must, therefore, be concealed by the ground, and be somewhere nearer, below us; so we pushed on and down, no concealment possible from the first lot, now much agitated.
Now we opened the others, among them a fine bull. We were some four hundred yards off, and above the animals, but their alarm was so evident that Subhan advised me to fire at the bull; but the brute kept his stern to me. However, waiting, my rifle resting on a stone, he turned, disturbed by the agitated flurry going on around him. I fired, and evidently hit. He thundered down the slope, passing from view, and then coming out of a nullah, his left fore-leg apparently broken, and, by his puffing and roaring, his lungs injured. "He's hit, he's hit, all right," were the exclamations. The herd, with tails aloft, scampered about, and finally halted nigh together, bull and all, some five or six hundred yards off, and I discharged my whole battery at the group, certainly striking one, if not more. Then, away they all careered, the big bull hanging behind, and labouring heavily. They gained the opposite hill-side, and seemed undecided how to act, which way to turn, and broke into two parties, one pausing, the other making backwards along the hill-side to gain the place they had originally come from.
The guns being reloaded, Subhan proposed a chase—he to cut off the lot on the hill-side, we to advance on the other. Away we went best pace, but that very bad. Our lot soon followed the other, the wounded bull limping, and labouring heavily in rear. I sung out to Mooktoo to run and intercept him; but there was no 'go' in Mooktoo. After running a dozen yards, he was as done up as the bull.
Subhan was now seen on our right, gaining a position cutting the path of the retreating foe. He struggles on—the first batch pass him, some two hundred yards off. On, then, comes the second—they go by—and we shout to him to await the bull, lumbering behind. He drops to a position. On comes the huge brute, and bang! bang! go both barrels, only accelerating his flight though he flourishes his tail frantically. Phuttoo and I now make for a point to cut him off, which he divining leaves the herd, and slowly goes straight up the hill, now and again stopping and looking back on his pursuers, his roaring lungs audible a mile off at least. Subhan slowly follows—Oh! how he crawls! I shout to him to follow on, close. Mooktoo seems shirking the work, stopping at the foot of the hill. I yell at him, calling him no shikarry, a soor, &c., and, in a frantic state, urge them on. The bull, ever gaining ground upwards, at last disappears over the ridge. Subhan, having gained but half-way, there stops, and halloos Phuttoo down below, and a short conversation takes place. Mooktoo, of course, stops and joins in. I vociferate, and abuse them all. Subhan is asking Phuttoo to send a man with food after him. Now they crawled on, seeming to make no progress, and constantly pausing; and, full half an hour after the bull, Subhan went over the ridge on his tracks—Mooktoo in another half-hour. Phuttoo and I sat down. He said, they must secure the brute, there could be no doubt of it. Having known them fail so often in pursuit of mortally wounded animals, I had my doubts. Phuttoo was sanguine.
Now came up Tar-gness and the coolie with breakfast; the former, remarking on the roaring breath of the bull, which he had heard a mile off, said he was hit in the lungs, and must die. We despatched him also in pursuit, and, when half-way up, he turned to tell us there was a quantity of blood. We waited here till 4 P.M.; and then, believing the hunters would return by another route, whether successful or not, we moved down to camp. The Yarkandi had joined in the pursuit, so we were satisfied on the score of their coming back the best road. We gained the bivouac, and Abdool, soon after, hove in sight. He said, they had as yet received no supplies whatever from passers by, and I now learned that there were but some six seers of corn. I made up my mind to go to the old Yarkandi's village, and there obtain supplies; dined, and remained anxiously looking for the hunters. About six o'clock the Yarkandi came in alone. The bull, he said, had escaped, and the shikarries had stopped behind; he, being cold, had come in; they were, no doubt, following. All our hopes were now at an end. The others came in about seven, looking very woe-begone, Subhan declaring that the bull had been only struck somewhere below the knee, and slightly injured. He had followed him, I can't say how far, and he stopped every now and then to eat grass, and moved away, when gained upon. Whether true or false, it mattered little now. The chase was over, my chance of a yâk ended. I felt, of course, much disappointed, and, sitting with my melancholy group round the fire, discussed my plans of going into the Yarkand territory for supplies. Moosa and the Yarkandi were called into council, and the latter was delighted at the idea of shewing us the way, if ordered, describing his land as one flowing with milk and honey, corn and wine; so we considered the matter settled, and I determined those to go, and the number of horses, as also the formation of our depôt.
2nd September. Sunday. I allowed the sun to shed his first ruddy beams abroad, ere emerging from my retreat, my coverings white and hard with frost. Taking a stroll to look at my nag, I passed some swampy ground, out of which silently sprung a snipe, a true snipe, and, settling again, permitted a close inspection. His colour and markings were duller than those of the English bird—like the Indian—and his bill somewhat shorter. There were snippets also here, so I could compare them. I also saw a couple of teal; these, with some hares and chakores, are all the small game seen; except, by-the-bye, the gigantic chakore which are in numbers on the mountains. One day I saw, I should think, from one spot a dozen coveys, each numbering nine or ten birds, fly over; they appear as large as a full grown hen.
3rd September. We returned to standing camp, and found all well. I had the amount of flour and corn correctly ascertained, and found that we had of the former ten days' supply, with economy, and five and half mds. of the latter; quite enough for our wants, until we should meet with the stock ordered out. I had no idea that we were so well off in point of rations; and now came the necessity of again taking into consideration the propriety of my contemplated expedition into an enemy's country. The actual necessity no longer existed, and although I would have given much to have carried out this plan, and obtained a glimpse of the Yarkand territory, the question of right or wrong, after mature deliberation, was given against it. There was the uncertainty of the extension of leave, and the trip to and fro would extend over twelve days. I should have no valid reason to urge for not returning now. I had food for my party, and my horses were sufficiently in condition to commence the return route, excepting two, which from bad galls would not be well for a month or six weeks. I had, therefore, no justification for the gratification of my curiosity, and accordingly gave orders for the return march to-morrow morning, deciding to take the route up the valley we had just come down, thinking that there must be some good reason for so many caravans as we had observed taking it, and our experience of the other left anything but pleasing recollections.
All was now preparation. A caravan being reported at hand, I sent Abdoolah and the shikarries to endeavour to coax the merchants out of some atta and corn. They returned laughing, the newcomers having fled on their appearance, leaving their property to its fate. They were soon recalled, and their alarm dispelled. They are hajis all, and journeying to Mecca. In the evening they sent a deputation to pay their respects, bringing with them a dish of rice, and, with Moosa's assistance, I conversed with them. They are quite in ignorance of the nature of the countries through which they have to pass, and the length of the journey; but they know that the greater part is under the rule of the 'saheb-logue,' and, therefore, feel sure of good treatment, and prefer this route, in consequence, to any other. The justice and liberality of the 'saheb-logue,' they say, is proverbial in the most distant provinces of Asia: they, as have others, expressed a desire to see their countries in possession of the English. They requested my sanction to their travelling in my company, and, of course, I acquiesced. With regard to the supplies requested, they replied, that they had only brought their own stock, but that we should be together, and should I run out, then they would supply me. This was satisfactory.
In the evening I summoned the Yarkandi to receive 'backsheesh.' He had toiled hard, and done his best, to obtain sport: he was delighted with two Co.'s rupees, and made a profound salaam, with more grace in it than I could have imagined him capable of. The Yarkandies I have seen are very like Europeans, quite as fair, the climate considered, and exhibiting great variety of feature and style. This man had the most decided snub nose I ever saw, completing a good-humoured face.
All is prepared for the return to-morrow. What a distance I have come, and through what a horrid country, only to meet with disappointment! And the prospect of retracing my steps amid such dreary scenes is not cheering. I have added to my geographical or topographical knowledge at any rate, and shall be the first European, I believe, who has penetrated thus far, and returned to tell it—should it please God to spare me.
4th September. There was a great to-do with the horses, which were anything but disposed to resign the life of ease and good cheer which they had recently been enjoying: they careered about in every direction, Murad's being the most intractable. I left the Bhooties in hot pursuit, and, starting ahead, breakfasted at our first bivouac, and halted for the night at our second. While waiting the arrival of the baggage, Subhan came and reported a 'jamwar' present. I supposed it was an animal, of course; but it was a bird of the curlew kind, glossy black. I took the Whitworth, and, retiring to about eighty yards, squatted down, fired, and the bird subsided on its tracks, shot exactly through the middle. Subhan rushed up, and performed 'hallal,' and accepted the bird joyfully, as they had had no flesh for many days. The things came up in good time, horses fresh and strong.
5th September. We continued our journey up the valley, the route due east, for some ten miles, with occasional patches of grass and bushes of considerable extent; then turned up a defile to the right (southerly), which leads out of this valley, and gives us a passage through the mountains to Waad Jilgo, where we meet and pursue our former route. Neither Moosa nor Abdool have been this road, so all is conjecture as to distance and quality. I believe it will prove a march longer.
After ascending a couple of miles or so, we halted in a glen affording grass, wood, and water, essentials for a camp not always forthcoming in this desolate region. The baggage arrived in due time. I admired two ghoonts of Murad's, and accepted his offer to ride one to-morrow. Abdoolah telling us that a sandagur had told him the distance to Waad Jilgo this way was but three marches, I determined to try and reach there to-morrow. It will be a great thing, if we are able to get from this place to another yielding grass, without a halt in a complete desert as on the other road.
6th September. We have severe frosts every night now, and the mountains are coated with snow from summit to base, from recent falls. This looks like the beginning of winter here, and, if so, summer must be short indeed, of but a few days' duration; and it is well I did not fulfil my project of entering the Yarkand country, for twelve days may make a serious difference in these mountain regions. The scenery is magnificent in its canopy of snow which removes the unpleasant impression created by the universal sterility, the pure mantle of snow leaving ample scope to the imagination. All around was exceedingly beautiful in the early doubtful lights.
I set off, attended as usual by the shikarries and one coolie with breakfast, Abdool leading Murad's ghoont. A stiff climb at once awaited us; then down into a narrow rocky ravine, up which we scrambled, and became aware we were off the horse-track, having been misled by a yâk path. Much delay took place ere we hit off the track. Then we had a gradual ascent of some six miles over a barren stony tract, a nullah on our left hand. The morning, hitherto sparkling and fresh, now became overcast, and a violent storm of sleet assailed us. I know nothing more miserable in travelling, than riding at a foot's pace, your horse stumbling at every other step or so, and a chilling blast cutting you to pieces, with its horrid accompaniment of stinging sleet and hail. The wind, which had been behind, now veered round and blew direct in our faces, as we descended into a desert plain of boundless extent. My borrowed nag's pace was so far from agreeable that I dismounted, and trudged doggedly on, head down. Gaining a little warmth, I got on better as the storm abated; but that coming on again with increased bitterness, I at last pulled up, and sat down with my back to it. After a time, I again trudged on. How this 'maidan' seemed interminable! But at length we came to a deep gorge with a stream running down it. It was now about one o'clock; and, but for the idea I entertained that we must be getting near Waad Jilgo, I had stopped here. Being far ahead of the riding trio, I was forced to follow my own ideas, and pressed onwards. Another interminable plain presenting itself, on, on I trudged, without any seeming alteration in its extent, until half-past three, when the shikarries overtook me with the ghoont, thinking I must be tired. I did mount, and rode on some six miles. There was now a ridge of low hills in front of us, and a range of higher ones immediately on our left. I hoped we might find water at any rate on the other side, intending to stop at the first place where was water. We had come a long distance, and there was hardly a chance of the coolies coming up. Abdool, being questioned, could give no information about the localities, nor could we understand his gibberish.
We reached the hills in front, and looked into a low flat, where was every appearance of a watercourse, for which we made, but found it dry. A violent snow-storm now setting in, and, having no knowledge of what was before us—all our people and things miles behind—I thought it best to halt here. Bad as this choice was, there was something in favour of it; a quantity of roots for fuel were at hand; so here we dismounted, tied our horses together, and, collecting roots—we had some sticks with us—with some little trouble we got up a smoky dull fire, round which we sat shivering, our prospects for the night decidedly comfortless.
The snow came thicker and thicker; there would be drink for man, if not for beast. Murad and a haji arrived, and joined our group, and at dusk the trusty Buddoo, with a horse carrying my bed, tent, &c., so I was all right. I had also a cake and bacon remaining from my breakfast. My tent erected, I turned into bed, the better to shield myself from the severe cold. I could not eat.
Buddoo said that the other servants and baggage were far behind; so the probability was, what with the night and snow, that they would not be able to find the path or, therefore, camp. I had no fear for them; they had everything but water with them. But I felt deep anxiety for the poor coolies, with nothing but their loads; what would become of them? I felt truly miserable. I told Buddoo, that he and my other two servants, when they might arrive, should shelter themselves in my tent, there being just room for them to huddle themselves up on the floor, and the closer the better. Poor Buddoo was extremely thankful; remarking that the snow descended thicker than ever, and the cold was intense, he closed the entrance, and left me to my gloomy reflections. Sleep was beyond my reach: fretting and restless, I lay listening to outward sounds. Subhan brought the guns, and had no comfort to offer, on my questioning him, but that those of the party here would not die, as they had fire; for the others, the coolies, there was much danger. As he talked, a loud whistle came down the wind, some of the party approaching; and, ere long, I heard with delight the strong cheery tones of Abdoolah who, soon arriving, was bustling here and there, giving directions, and apparently making light of the difficulties that beset us.
All with the horses had arrived safe; but of the coolies there were no tidings. There was strong reason to hope, however, that they would find shelter with the haji kafila, also on the road. The servants' shuldary was with them, so I sent an invitation to the shikarries to put up in mine; they, however, preferred a screen they had contrived, and a good fire. My mind to a great extent relieved, I tried to sleep, but the intense cold, in spite of all the clothes I could heap on, rendered my rest troubled and broken.
7th September. I heard the people quite merry and laughing in the morning. At the appearance of sunshine I turned out, and went to the fire, where I found all in good humour, though recalling bitter experiences of the past night. Snow, of course, lay thick all around. No tidings of the coolies. Abdoolah busied himself melting snow in the kettle to give me some tea (a tedious process, resulting in a smoky slop, for which, however, I was thankful), accompanied by the cake of yesterday. The poor horses stood coupled together, with heads drooping, and teeth grinding. I had ordered them each two seers of corn at night, and gave them one now. Some of them, by-the-bye, had augmented the influences disturbing my night's rest, by coming close to my tent, and grinding their hungry jaws, and uttering uncouth sounds, expressive of distress and suffering, as though to reproach me as the author of them. I did all I could for the poor things.
It was supposed that we were distant from Waad Jilgo some two coss; so a move on was resolved, as water must be had, and the coolies might follow on. The sepoy was despatched to see after them. Hoping to kill an antelope or two, we hunters went on ahead, I as usual on foot. The exhilarating influences of the fresh sharp air, the sparkling snow, and surrounding, many-tinted, diverse-featured mountains and hills, soon dispelled all my gloom, and I trudged cheerily along, enjoying many a pleasant fancy and reflection. But we had short reckoned our distance. It was at least ten miles to the first water and grass; not the spot we had previously stopped at—a couple of miles short of that; but as the grass was abundant, there was every inducement to rest here, which we did. When the breakfast coolie arrived at twelve o'clock, I found that Abdoolah had put me up nothing, and I was now extremely hungry, having had very short allowance of late. The shikarries, however, soon cooked me a couple of cakes, and, Abdoolah and baggage arriving soon after, I started off with Subhan to try for antelope. We went a long way round, and saw numbers, but could not get near one, and came back, disappointed and weary.
As we approached camp we saw sheep and goats nearing, a good sign; and I was told that the coolies were all right, except being hungry and thirsty, and were coming on. They did not arrive, however, till dusk, and then two were stated to have given in, and were remaining far behind, helpless. With some trouble and personal superintendence, I got off two Bhooties with a supply of water for them. The coolies had, as was supposed, stopped at the haji camp, and so were as well off as if they had reached ours, but that they assert that they could get no food from the hajis, which, however, I do not believe.
8th September. The night was bitterly cold. I could not sleep; experienced much oppression of chest, and could not contrive to keep my feet warm, all I could do—three pair of worsted socks on, drawers and trowsers, double blanket, felt namba, and flannel jacket and mackintosh over that, on the foot of the bed. In the night I got flannel trowsers, and wrapped my feet in them, but produced no warmth. The frost was very sharp, the stream turned to ice. The sun, however, was bright and cheery, and under its genial influence all were in good spirits. After breakfast we hunters started in advance. We soon saw a herd of antelope. But they also saw us, when we reached a low hill, behind which they slowly retired. I went after them with Subhan, and opened them about three hundred yards off. They soon increased that to four hundred, when some five or six being grouped together, I took a shot at them with Whitworth, and the bolt only just cleared their backs by an inch or so. Off they scudded, and I fired the Enfield, both balls seemingly falling right amidst them, but stopping none.
We crossed the plain where, on coming, we were so fortunate, bucks jumping up under our very noses. Now we just caught a glimpse of some in the distance, which were off at once. A piercing blast, blowing off the snowy Karakorum, met us in the teeth, cutting us through and through. I never felt anything like it. It seemed to enter my eyes, and wither my brain. My nose and lips were in a terrible state. Moving on, head down, I was aroused by Subhan's signal, and saw in front, in a watercourse we were about to descend, five antelope apparently asleep. I dismounted, and strove to get at them; but, the ground offering no covert, no nullah, they soon saw us, and away they sped into space. I now walked on, and descended into the wide interminable shingle plain, stretching from the base of the Karakorum. On turning an angle, I saw something move. It was a miserable horse left here to linger out its last moments in agonies. Two days, I suppose, it must have lingered, deserted by the unfeeling owner, a Bokhara man, who had passed us at Sugheit. He must have suffered heavy loss, as we have already passed eight or nine of his dead horses. The throats of the others had been mercifully cut. I put this poor animal to rest with a bullet in his brain.
Hence, on to our former bleak and dreary camp ground, the wind if possible more keen as we neared its primary source. I was glad to dismount, and wrap my head in a blanket, turning my back to this inhospitable blast. Soon up came Buddoo, the trusty, ever-cheerful, quiet Buddoo, and not very long after, the invaluable, energetic Abdoolah; and all the coolies came in by dusk. I have resolved, in consequence of our very limited quantity of rations, to make a short march to-morrow, though Sunday, to a place in the middle of the Karakorum gorge, where I hope to find a little sprinkling of grass, as we saw many antelope there, on coming through. This will give us an easy march over the pass to a spot beyond the wretched charnel-house, where we camped last time, and lost our first horse—offering the important advantage of a bite or two of grass, and, I think, fuel. I ordered a sheep to be killed, intending to regale my servants and shikarries with flesh, the better to enable them to stand the cold—an addition to their simple farinaceous diet most acceptable. Resorting to every possible precaution to promote warmth, I put on three flannel shirts, one amazingly thick, drawers, flannel trowsers, flannel coat, nightcap tied on by a voluminous merino neckcloth also encircling my throat, and on my feet, my principal place of suffering, three pair of woollen socks, then over all a woollen gun-cover, in which my feet are inserted, then the long ends folded round and secured. Thus clad, with double blanket, felt ditto, mackintosh, and warm choga enveloping me, I may surely hope for enough of caloric for comfort and repose; though that terrible wind is howling its menaces, and the frost set in hard. I wish I was safe in the Lobrah valley. Well, well, a few days—say seven—and we shall (please God) be at Chanloong; formerly, how despicable a place! now, how ardently longed for!
9th September. Sunday. A very indifferent night; my feet numbed and chill, in spite of all my manifold coverings; my lungs much oppressed, and continually calling me to consciousness by a sense of impending suffocation. On the sun's rays being distinctly recognised by the growing transparency of my tent, I emerged from my many wrappers. The outer atmosphere was intensely severe; ice everywhere it was possible; and a wind that found its way to one's marrow. My tent had been well secured at foot to exclude this assailant, as also, by-the-bye, the poor goats, which, unhappy sufferers, made several efforts to repeat their invasion of Friday night, when two of them established themselves under my bed, driven to this bold intrusion by the severe cold, and little Sara, as though in appreciation of their sufferings, and compassionating them, offered no opposition. Nor should I have taken measures to exclude them, poor things! but that they kept me awake by their constant restlessness and unusual noises.
I attempted to be, and to look, cheerful—on the Mark Tapley principle. My attendants looked very black and pinched. No wonder; there is some difference between this temperature and that of their fervid plains. At breakfast Abdoolah told me, that the party generally would prefer halting here to-day, as they needed rest. The coolies wanted to mend their boots, and promised to go through to the halt I had designed to-morrow. He observed, too, that the flour was all but out, and as the Yarkand kafila would come up to-day, we could indent upon them for their promised contribution. I had no objection at all to remaining; on the contrary, it would enable me to maintain my Sunday practice, proposed to be interrupted only on necessity.
I passed the day within, reading and writing; received report of the death of a horse, knocked up yesterday, one with a dreadful sore back, which I had remarked, and predicted its certain death. The Bhooties in attendance on the horses cannot be induced to look after them, or attempt to remedy the effects of the saddle-galls, by mending or altering, or applications of any sort. The loss will be theirs and their employers', as I have explained to them, with repeated injunctions to look after the animals; but all in vain. The Yarkandies came up in the afternoon. Abdoolah went to beg, and only succeeded in obtaining twenty-six seers of atta. I was angry with him for having either deceived me as to the quantity of flour in hand, on my making particular enquiries on Monday, or for having exceeded the proportion of issues he had then told me was necessary daily, having led me to expect that we had ten days' supply, when here on the sixth we were consuming the last day's rations. He made some unintelligible explanations of having omitted in his estimate some of the Bhooties who had hitherto subsisted on their own provision; but all this should have been correctly ascertained. I suspect that Abdoolah, in his anxiety to prevent my prosecuting my intended inroad into the Yarkand territory, rather exaggerated our resources, or under-reckoned our wants knowingly—a very grave fault in our circumstances. But we have the provisions, written and sent for, to hope and expect. Kamal is a thoroughly trustworthy messenger, and will be probably fallen in with at Bursey or Moorgaby.
The thermometer this morning at 7 A.M. was six degrees below freezing in my tent.
10th September. While yet dark, poor shivering Buddoo came in to take out bullock-trunk and chair for the coolies, now ready to start. Oh! how cold the rush of external air! The tent again closed, I enjoyed a sort of sense of comfort by comparison, and waited till the first appearance of dawn; then speedily got ready, and, muffled up, moved off. All the streams, though rapid, were frozen over thickly. I tramped on as fast as the rough shingle and a pair of new ammunition-boots, of great strength and corresponding hardness and stiffness, allowed me. A gentle ascent of some eight miles, I think, had to be surmounted ere we reached the actual pass of the Karakorum, and this up a valley or river-way. Having gained partial warmth after two hours' walk, and my boots chafing, I mounted, and took Sara before me. But, though the sun was now illuming this valley, the frost did not yield, and my moustache and beard were firmly united in a mass of icicles from my congealing breath, so that it was inconvenient (to use no stronger term) to open my mouth, as it needed the parting or extraction of some hairs to effect. With every contrivance to wrap them up, and with two pair of woollen gloves—one, certainly, all rents—my hands became so painful I could no longer keep poor little Sara under my cloak before me, so set him down; and, soon after, we made a turn to the left, opening the pass, from the snowy peaks of which came rushing an icy blast that quite curdled my blood. My eyes ached, my brain seemed congealed, and a pain in my back and side, and every now and then a gasping for breath, completed my misery. I was soon obliged to dismount, in spite of sore feet, to endeavour to restore the circulation by walking as rapidly as possible. But the difficulty of breathing was terrible. On I struggled, until a bend to the right into a narrow ravine presented itself, whose lofty banks gave some promise of shelter from this killing blast. For this I hastened; and, finding a little nook in a bank, down I threw myself, lifting my face to the sun, and so sought, and soon found, partial relief.
The shikarries came up, and we were all, I should think, half an hour before attempting a remark. Then, having thawed a little, we could find an objurgation or two against the country and climate. My breakfast bundle unfolded displayed milk frozen in bottle to a lump—tea, ditto. This was enveloped in a thick blanket, and carried on a man's shoulder. It was soon liquidized in the sun. I remained an hour or so basking: then, the worst over, away and up over the pass, and down, down into the valley beyond, where the temperature under the sun's increased power was tolerable. We passed the former halting-place, Pulu, and, after resting an hour, continued our course to Dupsang, where we chose our camp on an extensive plain, with a scanty patch or two of grass. The effects came up late, coolies later; but all got in. I determined to start the coolies very early, and leave, myself and mounted party, at 8.30, after breakfast, to give the horses more time to get a bite of grass.
11th September. On turning out I found a very severe frost, as I had expected from my experience within. Abdoolah proposed to give me an omelet for breakfast, but produced chops instead, explaining that the eggs were frozen into stones, and he had hard work to separate the meat.
We had to cross the elevated table-land, before described, now just covered with a thin layer of snow. A bitter wind blew in our teeth, putting all enjoyment of the scenery, or any pleasing train of meditation, out of the question. All was silent endurance, grinning discomfort. Yet I did give a glance, and sentiment or so of admiration, to some magnificent forms of mountains in their pure and brilliant garb of snow. But I was glad to be rid of their frozen features, and descend into a narrow ravine, where, screened from the wind, and cheered by the sun, my temperature and temper regained their customary tone. Here we met a party conveying goods of Bella Shah's—dyed leather—to Yarkand; and one of them was the unfortunate owner of the horses with me, a merchant who had been long in prison at Leh, and recently released. On gaining freedom, he, of course, looked for his horses, and was very glad to hear that they had been engaged for me. He now collected his clothes, and turned back with my party, much questioning and answering going on between him and the shikarries; he had read my first note to the kardar at Panamik for supplies, and had pointed out to that individual the necessity of implicit compliance; had met Kamal on the hill over Chanloong, now six days back. This was satisfactory. We need now have no apprehensions, but of a day's scarcity—perhaps, a half ration. We continued on, far beyond our original halt, and finally pulled up on the shingle, near a small thread of a stream which was lost in the shingle. When we previously ascended, this water-bed was intersected in every direction by rapid streams: now water was difficult to find. The traps arrived late, and I did not enter my tent till dark. There was a perceptible difference in the atmosphere, though still frosty.
12th September. I intended to start the whole party early, in order to bring the horses to the grass at Moorgaby, as soon as possible, but found them all astray, having wandered away in search of grass during the night. I could not wait in the cold, so started, my horse at hand following as usual. I strode away best pace, and passed coolies and Murad's party, and was deep in thought, when a rattling of earth aroused my attention, and looking up, there were some thirty nâpu close by me, on the hill-side on my right hand, not above fifty yards off, all of a heap. They were leisurely moving upwards, a capital shot. No shikarry, no gun near, that wretched Mooktoo having lagged far behind. Abdool coming on, driving my horse before him, I made frantic gestures to him to stop; but, head down, eyes on the ground, not heeding, in stupid absorption, on he came, nor could I gain his attention, till I picked up a stone and threw it at his head. Then he ducked, and halted, and began to talk. Mooktoo, awake to the circumstances, now came running up, rifle in case; fumbled at that, then to cap—his fingers so numbed, I suppose, he bungled sadly. The animals were now far up the mountain. I got the rifle, and pulling trigger, no effects—the cap bad. At last I got off both barrels, but the objects were too far off for this weapon—a polygroove.
We arrived at a point where the path, quitting the river-bed, ascended the rugged mountain-side to a great height, and re-descended. There being now no water, I thought we might go straight on, but Abdool would not hear of the horse going. He said, "man might go, but no horse could;" so Mooktoo and I, followed by Lussoo, breakfast-bearer, entered the defile which delighted us at first by its easy, accessible ingress. We soon, however, learned to respect Abdool's opinion, at which and his experience we had been scoffing. We found ourselves entangled in a confusion of rocks which at last quite blocked up the passage. There was nothing for it, then, but to retrace our steps, or climb the steep on either side. I set to work at one point, Mooktoo at another. Making slow progress, and slipping back often—for I had no staff to support me, and my boots were ill fitted for climbing—I gained the ledge with much exertion, and, after clambering along some hundred yards, found I must re-descend into the bed of the torrent, all further progress being cut off by a yawning precipice. Nerving myself for the attempt, I succeeded in getting down, showers of loose stones accompanying me. I could not pause for observation, but fixing my eyes on certain points apparently firm I dashed at them, and off again before my weight had detached them, leaving them to fall with awful resounding crashes into the depths below. I got down all right, not a little pleased and relieved thereat, and found the way now practicable. Looking up, there were Mooktoo and Lussoo craning over the chasm. I hailed them to try another place, and then went on, and heard stones and rocks thundering down the steep. Reaching the point where Abdool and horse should cross, they were not yet in sight, but soon appeared, and in due time joined me. Half an hour had elapsed since I left the other two in difficulties, and, becoming alarmed, I despatched Abdool to look after them; who after ten minutes or so reappeared, abusing them and Cashmiries in general as good for nothing. They were close at hand, and came up, Subhan and Phuttoo also. They had to extricate Lussoo who, terror-stricken, had stuck half-way down the steep.
Here I breakfasted, and then went on to Moorgaby. No Kamal: but an encampment—some of the people, and horses, and goods of the Bokhara man. Horses lay dead around; and a man was engaged in skinning and cutting up one for meat. My people did not make their appearance till six or seven hours after me.
13th September. A cold frosty morning. I stepped out smartly for a couple of hours, and then mounted, and found the Bokhara man encamped, who to enquiries said that he had lost six horses, and the others were so feeble that he must leave his goods behind, and take them on to Lobrah to recover their condition. I found the torrent, from wading and crossing which so many times, when coming, I had suffered such agonies of cold, now a narrow gentle stream, much to my satisfaction. On nearing Sassar a man with a loaded ass appeared, who turned out to be one of the party come with my supplies: the others were at Sassar. Kamal remained at Panamik, footsore. We found the river at Sassar, so formidable when last crossed, now easily forded in any place. Men, donkeys, and loads there: others encamped with yâks designed for hire by merchants whose horses might knock up.
Subhan rummaged out a sheepskin bag containing some dozen letters and heaps of papers for me. I greedily seized and ran through the former. Good news from home—all well, thank God! Excellent accounts of the corps at Amritsir; no casualties from the date of my leaving to the 20th July. The Baboo, writing the 20th ult., makes no allusion to the receipt of my packet from Leh, or from Diskit. This is perplexing and serious. If my letters, application for extension of leave, &c., have miscarried, I shall be in a considerable fix. He says, however, that he had previously despatched these letters by a coolie who, after twelve days' absence, returned, saying that he was taken ill on the road. Perhaps, in his letter first sent he mentioned the receipt of those packets, and forgot to note the same in his second. I hope so; but must suffer suspense and anxiety till my arrival at Leh.
14th September. Up betimes for the arduous passage of the Sassar, which I quite dreaded, so frightfully rough and fatiguing is it, without a redeeming feature. The coolies had preceded us, so we had no idea of meeting with shikar up the valley; but as I strode ahead, Subhan signalled me, and I at once saw a large flock of nâpu feeding in tranquillity on the steep hill-side on my right hand. They might have been three hundred yards off. I took the Whitworth from Phuttoo, and, followed by Subhan with the Enfield, moved gently up the hill, straight for the animals, there being no other course. Luckily the wind was down. I got to a big stone about a hundred and fifty yards from the flock, scattered feeding a few yards apart, and was obliged to wait some seconds for breath and composure. The animals were quite unconscious of our neighbourhood. At last, taking the opportunity of two coming together, one of which seemed to me the largest there, and to have horns, I aimed. It was most difficult to aim surely and with nicety, owing to the grey light of morning, the grey colour of the animals, and that of the ground, rendering the object very indistinct. Whispering this to Subhan, I let drive, and down rolled one of the animals; when, to my infinite astonishment, off dashed little Sara at speed, whose presence I was not aware of. He had, however, followed silently my every movement. He flew straight at the wounded animal, and seized it as it struggled. I called him to come back: but in vain. So, taking the double rifle, I looked for another shot, and fired at two passing nâpu, I believe without effect, but the ball seeming to go through one.
And now ensued an exciting and ludicrous scene. The wounded nâpu, an animal as large as a fallow doe, partially recovered the blow, and, shaking off the worrying Sara violently, came with irregular bounds rapidly down the hill, pursued frantically by the gallant little dog close at its haunches. I raised the rifle. Subhan adjured me not to fire, lest I should injure the dog. But fearing that the animal, apparently yet vigorous, might escape, I aimed well forward, and over it rolled. Sara was at its head immediately, and seized it by the ear, when a desperate struggle took place. The animal bounded into the air; but the tenacious little rascal kept his hold firm. Down they came, the dog undermost, never relaxing but to get a better grip. And thus the contest continued, until I got hold of the hind legs of the violently-struggling creature, and Subhan the head. Then Sara, coming to my aid, fixed his teeth in the haunch, and there held on, never yielding till life was extinct. His excitement then subsided, and he lay down panting, and looking as if really ashamed of his exploits.
Cheered by this incident, we pursued our way which was yet terribly trying. However, the passage was in time accomplished, and after reposing and refreshing for a couple of hours or so, during which time Buddoo and tent passed us, and the other servants came up, we went on and bivouacked on the hill above the Bhoot goatherds' encampment, a spot producing a fair supply of grass. At Abdoolah's suggestion I had engaged three of the yâks to relieve my tottering horses and carry the baggage, the horses coming on unloaded, by which plan I hope to save their lives.
We intend to go through to Chanloong to-morrow—a stiff journey, with the tremendous mountain to get over, which, however, is not so bad from this side. We are all elated at the near prospects of a better land and a better climate than we have recently sojourned in. I hear a deal of good-natured banter going on around, and feel very 'koosh' myself, and have been congratulating everybody upon our having bid an eternal farewell to the Karakorum and Sassar horrors.
The Bokhara man sent for some corn. He lost three horses yesterday. Two or three of mine look as though they would not survive, poor wretches! in spite of being freed from their burdens.
15th September. Still bitterly cold, my camp being close to enormous glaciers, in addition to the snow on the mountains. I led off at a round pace down to the shepherds' huts, and saw donkeys there loaded, which turned out to be an additional supply convoyed by the faithful Kamal who had been detained by a sore foot. I renewed the well-remembered horrors of this vale of stones and bones, to the latter of which there were now many additions. The air breathed on the mountain-side was quite pestiferous from the many rotting carcases.
It was a terrible long drag up. Having reached the top, I ordered a general dismount, or Phuttoo and Mooktoo would have assuredly bestridden their poor jaded beasts all the way down. We stopped a few minutes at a fine clear spring to refresh; and then on to the willow groves of Chanloong. The descent occupied about an hour and a half, best pace. How delightful and refreshing appeared the struggling willows of this scrubby piece of cultivation! Selecting the most umbrageous, I threw myself under it, and experienced such delicious sensations as the privations I had recently undergone could alone have procured me. Bees and insects in numbers were buzzing and humming about, and the freshness of vivid vegetation was strongly perceptible in the atmosphere. Excepting the valley of Sugheit, the air of which was fine and agreeable, that I have been breathing and exposed to may well be likened to a perpetual east wind, the rawest and most intense experienced in March in England. I revelled in the pleasant change, lying down in the shade, giving the reins to memory and imagination, until gentle slumber stole over me.
My attendants, baggage, and cattle, except one horse, came in. The absent animal was obliged to be deserted on the mountain summit. I ordered a man with corn to be sent up to make a last effort to save him. How delighted all the poor fellows were to get down!
I eat my dinner again 'al fresco,' and sat out as long as the light enabled me to read, occasionally casting a glance over the scenery, always grand though savage, and in the evening-subdued light endued with softer beauties: then turned in anticipating a good night's rest.
16th September. I did enjoy an untroubled night of calm repose, such as I have not experienced since I left Sugheit; no violent palpitations and struggles for respiration, no biting wind penetrating my every covering, and—oh! satisfaction indescribable—warm feet.
I rose early, the air cool and fresh, and just sauntered about among the straggling bushes, feeling truly sensible, I trust, of the mercies and blessings vouchsafed me. So far I had returned safe and sound. I now look forward with pleasure to my return to my duties and usual avocations. I passed a pleasant, cheerful day; and retired in suitable mood again to enjoy a night of delicious, healthy sleep.