The track through this desert was lined by the bleached bones of horses, strongly recalling the old route from Suez to Cairo, and, here and there, large fragments of a skeleton form—portions of the vertebræ, for instance—were propped up by stones to serve as landmarks to the traveller. On mounting the crest of a rise, I noticed an object in the path below, which looked like a huge animal, by the side of the remains of a horse. It proved to be an enormous hyena: from its size and appearance, I should think a rare species. After a short scrutiny it leisurely cantered away, giving many a backward glance at the unwelcome disturbers of its morning meal. From many tracks of these animals on the path, I suppose them to be numerous here, following the caravans, and revelling on the carcases of horses, victims to the privations of the journey. This unclean beast was a fitting object to complete the dismal 'ensemble' of this dreary waste.
Looming in the distance fronting us now appeared an approaching caravan, undergoing those strange transitions of appearance, those transformations under the mysterious effects of mirage, so common in the atmosphere of the desert—now swelling out laterally, then diminishing and towering aloft to most unnatural proportions, all the time swayed and agitated by glimmering waves of chiaraoscura, defying the eye in its attempt to define the forms immersed in this ever-oscillating, quivering, atmospheric flood. Startled by this alarming vision, a dozen or so of antelopes came trooping down, giving our party a wide berth. And having now been some four hours on foot, and there being appearance of water at hand, we determined to halt and make an attempt on the antelope, pending the arrival of the far-behind Kamal with the breakfast.
The leaders of the caravan came up, with some thirty horses, and we exchanged courteous greetings, and received confirmatory intelligence of the merits of Sugheit, both as a place of refreshment and shikar. One of the sandagurs carried in front of him a large bundle of clothing containing a child—a boy, I imagine—looking, poor little chap! pale and sick with cold. It was an uninteresting, mealy-faced child, with a very marked obliquity of vision, but I felt much compassion for him; he wore such a look of patient suffering. They vanished in space: and we, leaving Abdool in charge of the horses—what a desolate, forlorn creature he looked thus forsaken!—set off on our excursion. And far we wandered, but only on our return saw animals far in the distance—perhaps of the herd before seen, or may be others—when we turned our steps towards our living mark just visible, an undefined, quivering heap.
The remainder of the caravan hove in sight, a seemingly long string of horses, also exaggerated and palsied by the flickering medium through which we looked on them. I sent off Subhan to bring Abdool and Co. to a point we would make for, intersecting the road, and so saving us a long round: we then continued our route towards the mountains, and on arriving at their lower spurs connecting them with this table-land we descended to an extensive valley, watered by a rapid and a wide, but shallow, river. Some patches of grass were visible, on which were some animals grazing here and there. The ground was too level and void of covert to admit of much hope of stalking them; but I made the attempt with Subhan, and in spite of every precaution of tactics experience lent us—crawling a long distance on all fours, much to our personal inconvenience—the wary creatures (antelope) kept out of reach of harm, contenting themselves with keeping us at arm's length, as it were. Thus baffled, we rejoined our party, and pursued our journey, I resolving after these repeated discomfitures not to attempt again to approach these knowing inhabitants of the desert, they being as wild as though they had been hunted every day the last six months.
A gradual ascent crossing two shallow rivers brought us to Pulu, where on a bare plain, under a spur projecting into it, and under its angle abutting on the bed of a stream, are three rude huts; all around which are closely strewed the bones of horses, of which I counted fifty from one spot. A whole caravan must have perished here in the snow, I should think. The baggage (equestrian) arrived about five, but there was no hope of the coolies for hours. Abdoolah, however, had provided against such a contingency, having with him a reserved portion of the game killed the other day, and the canteen for cooking; so I fared excellently well, the chops being exceedingly good and tender. I ordered each horse two seers of grain, and one in the morning, this being the second day without a bit of grass. The cold was excessive; the huts a great comfort to my retinue.
We cross the mighty Karakorum range to-morrow—a great event. The ascent is said to be easy, and the road good. Indeed, I believe the great difficulties in our journey to have been surmounted at Bursey. But the want of grass and fuel still attends us. The night was horridly cold, the difficulty of breathing great. I heaped all the clothes on I possessed; but the keen frosty wind would not be denied, and found entrance through the chinks of my armour.