A dream of ther shooting
An old buck ther is a fine beast in his winter coat; his head is long and lean, the face being nearly black; the ears are small; a long, light-coloured mane sweeps down from his neck, chest and shoulders, reaching below his knees and showing up well against his dark brown back and quarters, his long shaggy coat half hiding his short sturdy legs. The horns are his weak point, and the ground he frequents entails such a lot of climbing and hard work that one is always inclined to think, ‘If I must risk my neck, I would sooner do it after a 50-inch markhor than a 15-inch ther.’
Still, ther shooting is very enjoyable in the spring (in the autumn, when the beasts are in their summer coats, they are hardly better worth killing than bears at the same season), and a few days ther shooting, if it can be indulged in before proceeding after markhor or ibex, is the best possible tonic for one’s nerves. The ground—rocky slopes covered thinly with pines and bushes—always looks more dangerous than it really is. The rock is sound limestone, and does not give way under one’s foot; there is nearly always a friendly bush to hang to, and the very blades of grass are tough. The writer does not go quite so far as to confirm the statement of a merry sportsman—that he and two shikaris all hung on to one blade of grass while crossing a difficult bit; but it is wonderful how much weight that grass will support if only subjected to a steady strain.
There is also generally a variety of game to be shot from the same camp—gooral, kakur, black and brown bears, musk deer, markhor in the Pir Punjal, and burrel may often, according to the district, be combined with ther shooting; besides, there is always the 100 to 1 chance of a serow or leopard, and the writer even once came across a tiger within a walk of ther ground. It had killed a buffalo out of a herd close by, and actually walked through the camp one night, passing within a few feet of the tents.
Though ther are often found in large flocks, the big bucks are generally alone, and these solitary old males are particularly crafty and by no means easy beasts to come to terms with. Colonel Kinloch writes unkindly of the ther in respect of his high flavour; all wild goats smell, and whether it be markhor, ibex or ther, the stink of the last beast bagged always seems more appalling than any that one has experienced before, and is only surpassed by the next one. The ‘bouquet’ of ther and markhor, however, appears to fade after the head has been stuffed, but the scent of the ibex will cling to it still. The writer has some stuffed ibex heads that were obtained six years ago, and their aroma on damp days, though pleasing as a reminiscence of past sport, is hardly suited to the house.
Female ther are smaller than the males, have no mane, insignificant horns, and vary a good deal in colour, some being reddish-brown, others a yellowish-drab. They and the bucks in their summer coats have a conspicuous mark on the back, where the hair of what is the mane in the buck parts from the hair on the back. This is particularly noticeable when looking down on the beast from above.
XL. NEILGHERRY IBEX (Hemitragus hylocrius)
Native Names: ‘Warra-adu,’ ‘Warri-atu’; Tamil (Sterndale) ‘Kárd-ardoo’; Canarese (Sanderson)
This wild goat is found in the Neilgherry range, and most of the higher hills in the south of India. It is not found in Mysore nor in Ceylon.
The old buck is of a dark sepia colour, with a light, grizzled saddle mark, lower parts paler brown, legs and face dark, and a short stiff mane on the neck and withers; the young bucks and females being lighter in colour. The horns much resemble those of the ther, Hemitragus jemlaicus, except that they are more ringed and sheeplike, and do not taper so rapidly. There is much the same difference between them on a small scale as between the horns of Capra sibirica and Capra ægagrus, the Neilgherry goat taking after the former and the ther the latter. The two beasts are much about the same size, and have, taking into consideration the different types of forest, much the same habits. In Madras the Neilgherry ibex, being the sole representative of the goat family, has an amount of importance attached to his pursuit which his Himalayan cousin does not enjoy, being crushed by the superior attractions of his mighty relatives the ibex and markhor. They are to be sought for in the same way, watching from above the grassy slopes among the cliffs at an elevation of 5,000 or 6,000 ft., and require the same careful stalking.