From this centre we were making for Sarikol, and, owing to it being midsummer, when the Kirghiz were grazing their flocks all over the country, the prospects of bagging a good head appeared to be small. Nadir, however, knew of a nullah to the south, and we determined to give it a trial, and therefore made for the Uchak Valley, where we camped at an elevation of 13,500 feet, some miles from the stalking ground, for the sake of obtaining supplies and water. It was bitterly cold at night, but we started off for our day’s stalking by 4 A.M., warmly wrapped up and riding the invaluable yak. Walking at these high altitudes is trying to the heart, especially to the middle-aged, and I decided, wisely I think, to save myself as far as possible. We gradually made our way up the open but stony valley towards the skirt of the main range, riding up the side of the mountain almost to the snow line, where we dismounted to spy. The bare, open hillside was littered with large and small boulders; there was little grass and no cover to speak of; so I did not feel hopeful.
Fortune, however, was kind, and before very long a herd headed by a really fine ram was sighted, slowly grazing its way uphill. For a long while we watched our quarry, as at one time it bore away from us and then again turned in our direction, until we finally saw that its line lay about a mile from where we were in hiding. The stalk consisted mainly in crawling round boulders; but although the wind was favourable we were seen before we approached within the usual range for a shot, as was indeed inevitable owing to lack of cover.
The only course left was to rely on my telescopic sight and risk a long shot. But I could not see the quarry either from a lying or from a sitting position, owing to the boulders, and at the distance a standing shot would have been folly. Accordingly I told Nadir to bend down and, using his shoulder as a rest, was able to aim steadily at the big ram, which, after stopping for a moment to gaze at us, was moving off at a slow pace. My shikari was as steady as a rock, and, thanks to this, I was able to hit the ram through the heart. It was a most fortunate shot; for the distance was paced out at 300 yards.
Nadir and the Kirghiz, wild with excitement, raced off to the fallen ram, while I, equally elated but far less active, slowly followed them, panting for breath when I attempted to run. It was indeed a lucky day, as the ram was a fine six-year-old specimen, standing as high as a small mule, and with a perfect pair of horns measuring 51 inches.
On the following day I wounded a second ram in the shoulder by another long shot, and tracked it until nightfall, leaving it when we were about five miles from camp. Early the next morning we sighted it again near the foot of a precipitous hill on a wide open plain where it had joined some ewes. Stalking was out of the question, as concealment was impossible, and we felt depressed until the Kirghiz told us that a few miles off there was a man, the owner of two hunting dogs who would run down the wounded quarry. In time he appeared on the scene and handed over his dogs to the Kirghiz shikari, while I sat down to watch. The Kirghiz showed great skill in separating the ram from the ewes, and when the dogs were let loose he ran at their heels at a remarkable pace. The ram went very fast at first, but then circled and doubled, threatening the dogs at times. But its efforts to escape were vain, and after a five minutes’ run the noble quarry was pulled down and the shikari cut its throat. The scramble down to the valley was very steep and long, but my yak was equal to it, and I was interested in watching some snowcock, which kept flying past us in alarm, displaying their striking plumage to great advantage. When we reached the bottom of the hill we found the ram to be a fine head, but smaller than the one shot on the first day, which, according to our information, was the biggest in that area, although not a first-class head.
HUNTING-DOGS WITH KIRGHIZ OWNER.
Page 330.
The dogs were not fed until they were rested, and to my surprise they refused a piece of bread; but it was explained to me that bread was such a delicacy among the Kirghiz that a dog never had a chance of tasting it and so did not know what it was!
Their owner, like all the Kirghiz I met, was friendly and gave me his views on life. He laid down emphatically that no man of substance could be comfortable without four wives, and on my challenging this statement he was quite contemptuous and said that the Prophet, on Him be Peace, gave his commandments wisely when he permitted Moslems to marry four helpmates, as two were needed to milk the yaks and the sheep, a third to do the cooking and a fourth to sew and weave carpets. He ended up by saying, “Praise be to Allah! I have four obedient wives, who spend all their days in trying to please me!”