It is the most splendid member of a splendid group, to which belong also the Ovis ammon of Tibet, with more massive but shorter horns, and the Ovis karelini of the Tian Shan, which is a smaller sub-species of the poli, the “record” head, shot by E. W. Dixon, measuring only 58½ inches. In the Ovis poli, the enormous horns are longer and relatively narrower than in any of the other wild sheep, forming a more open spiral and much more than one complete circle, with the flat surface markedly angulated.[18] The summer coat is lightly speckled and the legs are white, but in the winter the ruff becomes pure white. The height at the shoulders exceeds 12 hands, and the weight may be about 22 stone. The length of horns is enormous, one specimen, believed to be the longest on record, measuring 6 feet 3 inches! Marco’s “six palms” may perhaps be the equivalent of 5 feet; so that his estimate was in no way exaggerated.
The great distinction of being the first European to shoot an Ovis poli was won by Captain (the late Sir Henry) Trotter, who describes the event as follows: “It was during a very tedious and long march of thirty-seven miles, mostly through snow, that my attention was suddenly called to the presence of some wild sheep about two hundred yards up the hillside. My rifle was handy, and in a few seconds one of them came rolling down. It was the first Ovis poli ever shot by a European sportsman, but it was unfortunately a very poor specimen.”[19] Since that date British big-game shots, including the most famous of their generation, have visited these remote upland valleys in pursuit of this king of sheep.
When I actually visited the Pamirs I found that some of the descriptions I had read did not convey a clear impression on all points. Perhaps my chief disappointment was the aridity of the country, for, travelling in June and July, I had expected to find rich meadows decked with Alpine flowers. On the contrary, nowhere did I see anything but the scantiest pasturage, and it remains a subject of wonder that the huge Ovis poli can find nourishment in such a barren land. A second point which struck me was that the Pamirs were for the most part open and easy to traverse, and the mountains, although actually rising very high above sea-level, appeared almost insignificant when viewed from the high altitude at which we were travelling. The one point on which there was no mistake was the severity of the weather.
Starting from Kashgar in considerable heat on June 7, we crossed the Katta Dawan twelve days later in equally considerable cold, and from its crest, at an elevation of 15,250 feet, the Pamirs lay before us. To the north the Trans-Alai range rose up in snow-covered peaks, while almost at our feet a corner of the Great Karakul, the largest lake of the Pamirs, was visible. Descending into the valley from the storm-swept pass, I felt very happy that I had at last reached the haunt of the Ovis poli, and my elation was increased by seeing three small herds of females grazing on the mountain side as we passed down the valley to our camp near the lake.
The following morning I started off to try for game, feeling as keen and excited as I had done during my first shooting expedition more than twenty-five years ago, when everything was “fair and new.” I had fortunately secured the services of a good shikari, by name Nadir, who has already been mentioned. He had travelled with other Englishmen and quite grasped our methods of stalking, which utterly puzzle an untutored Kirghiz. He was indeed a treasure; for, besides being a good stalker, he understood how to manage the Kirghiz, who worked willingly under him.
Followed by some ponies carrying bedding and food, we rode across the level steppe to the foot-hills. By good luck we sighted a herd of six or eight four-year old rams, which were grazing about a mile off to our right, and before very long we saw their horns moving over a low ridge about 400 yards away. I jumped off and, running up to the ridge, had an easy shot and bagged my first Ovis poli. Though the head was a small one, such a start was of good omen for the future.
We afterwards examined the ground for miles, but saw no tracks of big rams; so we bivouacked in the hills and returned to camp the following day, satisfied that the local shikari was speaking the truth when he explained that the veterans visited the range only in winter. There was, indeed, no chance of a big head anywhere near the Karakul, and as sport was merely a pleasant incident of the journey, not its object, we marched on to Pamirsky Post.
OVIS POLI—THE 51-INCH HEAD.
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