13th August. I got comfortably through the night under piles of clothes, and roused up at dawn, the thermometer in my tent at freezing point. The shikarries had allowed their tats, after being driven in, to run off again, so I started with Abdool. We got well across the snow to the foot of the glacier, where we found no regular path, but had to scramble up a mass of stones and débris on one side of the ice, almost perpendicular. I feared for the baggage animals. The road was execrable; nothing but rugged masses of loose sharp-pointed stones. Of course, riding was out of the question. One side of the pass—the northern—was free from snow, but piled on high with these masses of stone: the south side was filled with snow to the consistency of ice a foot or so from the surface. I should calculate its extent to have been some four or five miles, with an occasional break where was a basin and a pool of green water. The route was most uneven, presenting a succession of ups and downs all but impracticable from the stones. This gorge was strewed with the skeletons of horses, of which we must have passed a hundred or more. When I thought that we must have got over the worst, I found the whole pass blocked up with a distinct glacier over which we had to climb. But it was less difficult than it looked, the surface being rough, and crumbling under the tread. There was about a mile of this; and then a gradual descent to masses of stones similar to those already passed, through which we scrambled and stumbled until well down the pass, where the path appeared again, and I mounted.
As we rode down towards the camp, Tar-gness' dog, which was a little ahead of us with Kamal who carried my breakfast, pursued a large flock of shâpu, scattering them here and there: a large body of them, however, stopped and recommenced feeding high up above us. This looked promising for sport. I alighted at half-past nine, after five hours' hard work. We found some stone screens, and, piled up by one, a number of bags of 'charras,' there deposited by some merchant whose horses had died. I am told that an immense quantity of valuable merchandise is thus lying about on the Karakorum mountains, awaiting the owners' leisure for removal. They say it is never robbed, which says much for the honesty of the natives who pass to and fro; though I suppose the fact is that none but merchants do travel this road, and they naturally respect each other's rights, and compassionate their misfortunes.
The scenery was very grand. Immediately in front rose two enormous mountains looking black like coal, composed of a slate-like stone; and beyond them was a broken range of light sand-coloured mountains, seen through the gorge dividing the former, where I believe our path runs. Right and left of us lies a valley of the usual sterile appearance, huge snow-capped mountains shutting it in. It lies, I think, north and south.
A kafila was announced; and in time there arrived a merchant from Buduckshan. He had about twenty-five laden horses—small, well-formed, compact animals. He pitched his tent, a gay, green, flimsy thing; but, after some conversation with the shikarries, he struck it, and pursued his way. And a horrible rough one he will find it, poor man! He has never travelled this road before. I fear he must lose some of those nice horses, although they are in marvellous good condition. He halted ten days to refresh them at a place called Sugheit, where is abundance of grass, and for which I am now making.
My servants and horses arrived all safe, after much difficulty and one or two falls. I went with Subhan to look for game, and after a length of time we found, in a deep nullah. I stalked carefully up the stony hill, and was but just in time, as the herd of nâpu were on the alert, and fled as I arrived. But I struck true, and saw one lag behind as they darted down the steep. Blood shewed on the side, and it just crossed the ravine, and dropped. I fired into the lot going up the opposite side, and dropped another. We made our way to the prey, two female nâpu, on which Subhan performed the 'hallal' duly; then, placing a conspicuous mark by the carcases, we returned to camp, where our success was a subject of much rejoicing, and sent for the meat.
Two merchants journeying to Yarkand had followed me closely, and joined my camp. They came to see me while at dinner, and on my jokingly proposing to accompany them into Yarkand they assured me I might do it with perfect safety; they would answer for it with their lives. I talked with them for some time, and felt quite elated at the idea of visiting that famed city, hitherto hermetically closed to Europeans. I was quite resolved to attempt the adventure, and what with the day's sport, this exciting object, and a glass of sherry, I turned in quite jolly.
When the two animals were brought in, the coolies petitioned for a halt to mend their shoes, and Tar-gness, who had been out on the other side after shikar, coming back with the news that he had seen some fine large-horned nâpu, I consented to a day's halt, and ordered an early start to hunt.
14th August. A bitter cold morning: and there was a stream to cross, the stones of which were coated with ice, so that Subhan, the plucky Subhan, who volunteered to carry me across, fell just on reaching the other side. We had most difficult climbing up stony steeps: found a herd of nâpu, male and female, but tried in vain to approach them, as they first got our wind, and then sighted us; so we descended again to breakfast near a rivulet. From this spot we descried the herd crossing a ridge on the mountain, and the males, some ten, remained behind and lay down. I gazed at them through the glass, and admired their massive horns. After a time we determined to try and circumvent them, and pursued our way along the stony slope of the mountain, low down. But these 'cute creatures spied us, and, I believe, detected our plot, which was to station ourselves in a ravine crossing their probable line of retreat, when roused by Tar-gness who was to approach them by a long detour down wind. I noticed that the suspicious animals had already faced about in the direction of the new danger. I had hardly any hopes of success, and told Subhan that I feared Tar-gness would never go back far enough to drive them in our direction: but the attempt must be made, and a terrible struggle we had up a ravine, the surface of which was one mass of loose sharp stones, causing one to slip back every step. After many a pause to take breath we reached the requisite height, and I posted the shikarries—Subhan and the guns with me commanding the passes, Phuttoo and Mooktoo guarding the two ends. A bitter keen wind nearly blew Subhan and me off our perch, to which we had climbed with difficulty. Here we waited perhaps two hours, and then, neither hearing nor seeing anything, descended; which was not effected without danger. Indeed, I was nearly coming to grief getting up, as Subhan ahead of me detached a large stone which, by a convulsive effort, I avoided: had it struck me, it must have hurled me down below, when nothing less than a broken limb would have resulted.
We made our way down the stony ravine, Subhan and Mooktoo having their sandals cut off their feet, and completing the day barefooted. We went back by the river bank, the sand of which better suited the shoeless pair, and on the way fell in with some ten pair of nâpu horns, some very fine ones, the animals supposed to have perished in the snows.