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

by Augustus Henry Irby

I followed a charming path through woodlands skirting a river—the Scind, I believe—to a small hamlet shaded by enormous, umbrageous walnuts. This is but half a march; but from hence we start up the mountains after the bara sing. It is a famous ground, and we have news of the stags being in numbers bellowing there. A native of this place confirmed the intelligence, telling us that he had a field high up the hill, and being there at work four days ago he had heard the bellowing. I engaged him as guide.

Abdoolah and Co. had managed to obtain coolies and tats to bring in all the baggage, and from muttered conversation I fear that much oppression was exercised. However, I did not enquire too strictly into the case, but ordered liberal rewards. Arrangements were made to divide the party. Phuttoo goes on with the baggage to Sirinuggur. I take my bedding, canteen, a stew, &c., and Buddoo attends me. All the coolies were shut up in a house at night and guarded—a necessary precaution, but a most disagreeable one.

11th October. Up betimes, and parting directions given to Abdoolah to mind and pay the coolies liberally.

I ordered the two dogs to be laid hold of, but poor Sara put on so piteous an air of dejection, looking so disappointed and miserable that I could not refuse his mute appeal, and he bounded frantically to my side on the hint to come. We had a heavy climb of some three miles up a well-wooded mountain, occasionally passing over open glades richly cropped with rank grass, and so on to the lower crest, whence slope very steep, smooth, grassy sides to a ravine, the other side of which was a mountain equally steep, but covered as thickly as possible with fir and other trees from crest to base. Just as we reached the top our ears were saluted by the welcome bellow of a stag. I went a little further ahead, and then went down the slope and heard two or three more bellowing lustily. I had a good idea of the exact spot where these angry challengers were, and longed to be at them, but the jungle was said to be impracticable. One animal had evidently shifted his quarters. Subhan now joined me; and, mentioning what I had observed, I suggested a move towards the neighbourhood of the moving stag. He was all for it, too.

We gained the spot that we desired, and were greeted by lusty roars across a ravine, the voice issuing from the fir trees, now and again repeated. So on, for a couple of hours, when a gentle doe was spied amid the low bushes in the ravine. How stealthily and gently she moved about, her ears pricked, and restlessly reconnoitring all around! After a time she came a few yards up the slope, and, having paused under a tree, again took to the bushes and disappeared. Soon the stag's renewed bellowing betrayed him to be on the stir, seeking in agitation his flighty mistress, and he was suddenly viewed high up on our side the ravine, standing listening and looking for his lost mate. A rapid consultation and withdrawing from sight; and we then crept crouching to make a detour, and ascending the hill-side intercept our prey on a line it was thought that he would take. All was now subdued excitement. It was undoubtedly a bara sing of the largest size. We had some two hundred yards further to toil up, when suddenly a loud bellow resounded straight before us, proceeding from behind a clump of bushes crowning a knoll on our left. To drop and handle Whitworth was instantaneous. And hardly was I ready when Subhan whispered "there he comes", and truly, heralded by his huge antlers, he topped the rise, and was at once immersed in the bushes, his form too much concealed by boughs and foliage to risk a shot. Soon he emerged, forcing his way, and came on—verily, a royal beast! Once I aimed, but the inequality of the ground removed him. Then he again presented himself, almost fronting me. Now sped the deadly bolt, and over rolled this forest monarch; then, throwing himself violently forward, he struggled down the steep declivity, almost concealed in the high thick fern. Sara fearlessly rushed upon the prostrate beast, and assailed him in the rear, jumping about, and barking frantically, and now and again taking a bite at the haunch. The animal was quite safe; but, lest he might go to the bottom of the deep ravine, where his headlong struggles were leading him, I scrambled after him, and delivered three other shots, the last behind the neck, coming out at the mouth.

The butcher's work finished, we ascended towards our bivouac, taking up a position whence an extensive view of the hill-side was obtained. Other stags were still audible, and suddenly Mooktoo started, and following his eye we saw a stag which had come over from behind us, out of the fir jungle which covered that side of our ridge. He did not see us, and passed downwards at a quick walk, in the direction we had recently come from. Of course, we were soon rapidly pursuing. The hill was steep, and I leading had just gained the top of the slope, when I was aware of the presence of the stag which, having just caught a glimpse of me, was standing erect, gazing at me. He had apparently just turned on his tracks, and thus met us face to face. He had probably been scared by the smell of blood. He was about two hundred yards off, his chest towards me; but unfortunately I was now lying down, completely blown, and my hand, in consequence, so unsteady that I would not risk a shot, hoping that he might yet come on. But no: he turned, and trotted up to the crest of the ridge to take covert. The case being urgent, I rested the Whitworth on Subhan's shoulder, and aiming forward and high struck him somewhere behind the shoulder, but high. He was then on the sharp ridge, and apparently flinched, and fell to the shot. We speeded up as fast as the steepness allowed, expecting to view the animal; but he had dived down the precipitous bank into the jungle. We were soon on his tracks, easily found and followed by the blood which appeared to have been spurting out of the wound. We thought we were sure of him; but daylight failing, and the blood diminishing, we came to a fault, and, though hitting off the slot again, could not work it out, so reluctantly gave it up, resolved to take up the pursuit in the morning.

We climbed back, and made for our bivouac. It was now black dark, and our fires were blazing away famously, lighting up the black masses of firs in the midst of which was our camp. Dinner was soon ready. This was a bright hour of a hunter's existence. The day had been successful, and the morrow was full of hope and promise. The bivouac, with its romance of situation, its glowing fires, crackling and flickering, throwing a ruddy glare over all surrounding objects, and thereby revealing the black recesses of the forest—bringing prominently out the picturesque groups, the giant shadow of one or other of whom moving athwart, in execution of some culinary work, was occasionally cast across the scene—was in its way perfect. I adjourned to the fire, and chatted and planned with the two hunters: then retired to my lair, thinking in the words of the old song, "Oh! 'tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood."

Mooktoo is to track up to-morrow with the guide and coolies; Subhan and I, Kamal attending, to look for fresh game. Subhan proposes going over the summit of the mountain in the middle of the day.

12th October. I was accoutring myself as day broke, and the two parties started together, our path being the same for some distance. We had not gone far ere Subhan spied a stag far down below us, standing up. He soon lay down, and there seemed a good chance of a successful stalk; but Subhan, the impetuous Subhan, taking the lead, descended straight down the steep slope towards the recumbent deer. I remonstrated at this barefaced attempt on so wary an animal—the wind was also unfavourable—but the wilful Subhan held on his course, sliding on his back, as did I and Kamal. Soon the stag showed signs of uneasiness, became restless, looked around him, then rose, and finally stept gracefully and quietly from our view. When we reached his ground, we found no clue to his retreat. Another was heard in the jungle, bellowing loudly, his deep, hoarse notes and powerful lungs bespeaking him a first-rate stag. I had noticed his voice yesterday in the same spot. Others were answering him. Thinking we might ascertain the precise spot he harboured in, and then stalk him through the jungle, we advanced on him, and lay down to listen and watch: from which time he kept mute. We remained thus about a couple of hours, and then returned to bivouac to breakfast.