17th May. Full of pleasing anticipations of success to-day from the favourable reports of game being abundant.
We went up the Kuzuznai, a narrow valley with precipitous, inaccessible cliffs on the right-hand, and grassy slopes of a steep pitch running down from the mountains on the left, abundance of snow on either hand. We met a native, whose replies, when interrogated as to game, I judged from what I could gather to be rather discouraging. After having advanced two or three miles from Ofith, we reached a small farm, a couple of log houses—all the dwellings in this valley are of the same description, rough log houses roofed with slabs of timber—a few patches of ploughed land, but unlimited grazing. It was here thought advisable to send back, and order up camp to be nearer the shooting, which was done accordingly.
A bear was seen in a hollow on the left hand. We went after him, but if there before, he was no where visible, when we had climbed up to greet him; so we descended, and pursued our way up the narrow valley, crossing repeatedly large masses of snow, much of which had accumulated by downward drifts, and some by slips from the overhanging mountains.
It was in this very valley that, some few years ago, Dr. Rae and five native attendants were overwhelmed and swept to destruction by an avalanche; among the number was the brother of my shikarry, Phuttoo who himself, with an officer of the 87th R.I.F., narrowly escaped perishing also, by rushing forward as the great mass swept down with resistless force—thus avoiding the fate of the less fortunate, whose bodies remained buried under the superincumbent mass for many months, in spite of great exertions made by large bodies of labourers to exhume them.
Whilst I am writing in my tent, thundering sounds of falling masses of snow are audible now and then, and, looking out, I see the 'debris' falling down the cliffs opposite. It is grand and imposing.
We wended on our toilsome way, struggling across snow, and gradually ascending. Presently we descried a bear ahead, soon after another, both feeding on the slopes. We endeavoured to get at them, but whether they got wind of us, or what not, is matter for imagination, but we only arrived to see each successively leisurely taking his way up the mountain.
We had now come to the end of our beat in this direction, further progress being forbidden by the snows: so we descended, and took possession of a mass of rock, isolated in an extensive tract of snow, filling the valley from side to side. Here we breakfasted.
Rain came on. I wrapped myself in my 'choga,' warm Cashmere over coat, and lay down, falling into a disturbed and restless sleep, every now and then waking from the rain on my face, rapidly getting wet through, and this in the midst of snow. At length up got Subhan, who with the others had been sitting closely wrapped up in their blankets over a fire they had contrived to light, and proposed that I should remove below the rock. I had previously asked him, if there was no better place to put the guns than on the rock, and he had answered 'No'; so, surprised at this proposal, I followed him, and found a comparatively comfortable habitation formed by the projecting ledge of this massive rock, in which, late in the season, lambs are sheltered. There, in much hampered attitudes, the height being only three or four feet, and the floor formed of large pieces of rock that had fallen down, I endeavoured to make the best of things. A small fire, the space only admitting of a very small one, was lighted, and thereat we tried to warm our chilled limbs, and dry our dripping clothes. I had no idea that I could endure so much smoke: I sat right in the middle of it, there being no help for it. I chatted with the shikarries, who related anecdotes of the sahebs with whom they had hunted before. After a time they went to sleep, some sitting on the snow, others lying on the pieces of stone. The rain poured. I should have been quite dry, had I only come here at first: however, with an occasional shudder, more, I believe, from the knowledge that my outer garment was wet, and the extremely dismal effect of the combination of rain and snow without—dense clouds, too, actually enfolding us at this elevation, probably 15,000 feet—I bore up cheerily.
I was at length left to myself, the shikarries preferring the larger fire outside, on the top of the rock, though exposed to wind and rain, to the small amount of caloric derivable from my few embers. I stirred up my fire occasionally, and sat, thinking and thinking, guiding my thoughts to pleasant subjects and agreeable recollections as much as possible, until I felt not only quite contented, but even disinclined to move. Thus I passed the time from 10 A.M. till 5 P.M.