The Diary of a Hunter from the Punjab to the Karakorum Mountains

by Augustus Henry Irby

18th August. The passage of the Karakorum mountains effected—and no great feat either, as the heavier work had been already accomplished 'en route.' On turning out of my tent this morning, everything congealable was frozen. I was informed that a horse was down very ill, and went to see him; and there the poor creature lay in agony, a nice creature in good condition, which I had noticed as one of my best. There he lay struggling, the steam of the death-sweat exhaling on the cold frosty air: his nostrils were full of blood. Alas! I could do nothing for him. And even while I turned to move away, death seized him, his teeth set, an universal shudder convulsed him, his legs were stretched out stark and stiff, and with a hollow groan he expired. Poor creature! it was a distressing sight. I attribute his death to inflammation from the severe cold. This is the second casualty, as I had to consent to the maimed goat being put out of its misery at Bursey: its moans were shocking. The coolies made a good meal of the poor thing. And so I added my contribution to the piles of bones at this melancholy spot.

Some six miles of tolerable travelling, mostly along the watercourse, brought us to the foot of the Karakorum, up which a portion of the winding path was seen, nothing formidable about it. I breakfasted, and then rode up the mountain, pausing every twenty paces or so to breathe the nags. Here we passed our mercantile companions who had given us the go-by, when at breakfast. A zyarat—a pile of stones with some rags on sticks—was on the top of the pass. I thought it was Buddhist, and rebuked Abdool for doing reverence to it, but was informed that it was a Mahomedan pir. We descended into a level valley, watered by a stream which Abdool states to be the source of the Yarkand river. Bones and carcases of horses lay in all directions, the loads of many left beside their bearer's remains. Huge bloated ravens flapped and croaked around. Footprints of the hyena, too, were seen, which foul ugly beast had skulked from the glare of day to some lone den in the rocks around.

I rode slowly on ahead of my party, pondering on subjects suggested by the savage wildness of the scene, when I was quite startled by the rushing sound of two monstrous ravens which, quarrelling for a morsel of carrion, swooped down close by my head. I thought how, in darker ages, this would have been regarded as an augury for good or evil. We descended gradually, following the watercourse, the valley widening to some two or three miles extent; at a bend in which, taking us to the eastward, our course having been hitherto north, we saw some of the wild horse (kyang)—two or three in the valley, others on the hill-side, and some up a creek down which came a tributary stream. Exciting as this sight was, nothing could be done. To attempt to stalk such wild, sagacious creatures, with every natural condition in their favour, was hopeless; so gazing in despair I rode on, and saw two large antelopes equally unassailable. The valley narrowed to a gorge; then opened out on to an extensive plain of shingle, miles broad and more in length, intersected in all directions by streams which, if united, must form a large river. We crossed over this plain to a grassy bank, lying between it and the sandy hills which represent, as it were, the projected roots of the mountains, stretching out far and irregularly from the main body. The country is now evidently opening out, showing wide expanses between the mountains, and giving hopes of better lands to be soon reached.

Another caravan passed on its upward course, but some way from us. We saw some startled antelope hastening from them, and went after them; but after having toiled long, performing a circuitous course to reach them, we viewed them where, from the direction of the wind and absence of all covert could not approach. I sent Phuttoo to try to drive them to us, but he failed entirely. We wandered about this shingly plain, viewing other antelope equally unapproachable; then returned to camp ground. None of my people had arrived. Nor did they till 5 P.M.; when I learned that another horse had knocked up, and was apparently in a hopeless state, but the blood being extracted from its nostrils, and its burden removed, it recovered and was being led on.

After night had closed in, I was sitting anxiously awaiting the arrival of the coolies still behind, when I heard sounds of human voices in distress, faint and distant. There were answering calls from camp. This continued a long time. I then enquired if any one had been despatched to direct the wanderers to our haven, and was told one had; but think not till I spoke. A long time elapsed; and then the voices drew nearer, and at nine o'clock all had come in safe, to my great relief. They had naturally followed on the main track, from which we had turned off to camp, and so they had strayed some miles beyond us.

I had given orders for an entertainment to be prepared for all hands to-morrow, including our mercantile friends, to commemorate the passage of the Karakorum, as also to freshen up my exhausted coolies, who have had four consecutive hard days' work. The whole party look worn and haggard. Much pleasure was evinced at the prospect of the morrow's rest and refreshment. I got out additional clothes to sleep in, and, having carefully scraped up the dirt and stones against my tent-foot to exclude the piercing wind, hope to make out the night comfortably.

19th August. Sunday. I enjoyed a tolerable night's repose, thanks to the precautions taken to render my shuldary proof against the icy blasts coming down from the snowy summits around. I strolled out, and selected as favourable a site as this wild offered, where to sit and ruminate. My reflections were not altogether satisfactory, not unmixed with growing apprehensions of disaster, from loss of cattle extending to loss of men. I have reduced the coolies' loads to a mere trifle; still they get on with difficulty. It is not the burden, but the difficulty of respiration, that oppresses them. Another goat was obliged to be killed on the road yesterday. The want of natural nourishment is terrible: and the fact of this region not producing sufficient herbage to support a goat may well define its inhospitable sterility. The few wild animals existing must pick up a precarious and meagre sustenance in and about the watercourses, where alone a vegetation, coarse and scanty, may be found. The horse that knocked up yesterday was led in at night, and having fed we hope to save him.

From these gloomy forebodings I turned me to the more cheerful subject of to-day's festivity, and descended to carry out with Abdoolah the designs already chalked out. I desired that all the mussulmans should eat together, merchants, shikarries, domestics, and Bhooties—the Hindoos separately—and the Buddhist Bhooties. About 12 P.M., Abdoolah reported that the banquet was spread, and going out I found the party busily employed on an ample provision of well-cooked pillau, helped into its resting-place by tea and coffee. All seemed much pleased and thankful.

In the evening a large caravan of some eighty horses came in. The principal man was a Cashmiri of Kishtewar, and being slightly acquainted with one of his countrymen, the shikarries, he was most accessible to all our queries, and most voluble in his replies. He had not come by the Sugheit road; had seen numbers of antelope to-day. He entered into a long history of the murder of the brother Schlagentweit, which agrees in the main with that already known, but with the important difference that the bulk of the victim's property, including his papers, was with him when Walli Khan so brutally murdered him, and is still in that ruffian's possession. A few things were previously 'looted' on the road, which were following in the rear of the ill-fated traveller. I enquired as to the probability of obtaining the effects, at least the papers of the unfortunate naturalist, and was told that certainly, if I wrote authoritatively to the khaltai newab, or hakim, who rules Yarkand, he would cause their restoration; though it must be a work of time, as all sorts of evasions and falsehoods would be put in practice to mislead me, and induce the belief that the effects were beyond recovery.

Here is a matter for serious consideration. A great advantage to the public may be obtained by my instrumentality, but can I, a servant of the government, take upon myself the responsibility, wholly unauthorised, of using my influence as belonging to the government, in a direction altogether beyond my office and functions?