The following morning we came to a most dreary-looking region, ornamented only with a big salt lake, without any vegetation or kind of life, making us eager to get across such a solitude. At the east end of the lake we marched over rising ground up a nullah about a couple of miles before we came to some fairly good grass, where we called a halt, never dreaming that we were doomed to an unpleasant disappointment. On getting up some water from below the surface, we found it to be the worst we had tasted, quite impossible for man or beast to drink. Two of the men, however, did gulp some of it down, and suffered in consequence for their indulgence. Their thirst became far more acute than was that of the rest of us. We were afraid that should we find no water by the evening, it would go badly with all. Some of the animals were too thirsty even to eat the grass. We, therefore, made an earlier start than usual, sending on ahead a couple of men to search for water in some likely-looking ground that lay some distance on in front on our right flank.
As we were marching along in silence, we suddenly saw the two men were coming towards us, and as soon as they drew near enough for the other muleteers to see by their animated appearance that they had found water, they made a general rush towards them, forgetful of what became of the mules, or whether Malcolm and myself had any water at all. Their one and only thought, as usual, was themselves. A few miles further on we found two pools of good water, and resolved to remain there half a day to give the animals a chance of regaining their lost strength.
During the night our tent had great difficulty in withstanding the wind, that blew with much violence, while the temperature fell to twenty-one degrees of frost. As we had run short of iron pegs, we found a most efficient substitute in fastening the ropes to our tin boxes of ammunition. On other occasions, too, the ground was so sandy that pegs were entirely useless, and each rope had to be fastened to a yakdan, or to one of our bags of grain.
During the afternoon we marched along a broad, grassy, and somewhat monotonous valley, steering for some snow peaks we had seen the previous day. We found no game, excepting sand-grouse, which, by their unmistakable notes, made their presence known in the mornings up to 8 or 9 o'clock, and after sunset.
On the 26th July we left Camp 66, moving off by moonlight, for the going was easy. On halting for breakfast, two antelopes ventured to come and have a look at us, and, of course, paid the penalty of death. Such an opportunity as this was not to be thrown away, and laying them together, I photographed them, and afterwards cut them up, carrying as much meat as we possibly could manage—enough for three or four days' consumption. The afternoon was hot, like a summer's day in England. Some yak, resembling big black dots, could be seen in several of the grassy nullahs: a trying temptation to have a stalk after them, for the ground was of such a nature that with care one might have come up to within a hundred yards of some of them without being seen. But then it would have been useless to slaughter them, so we contented ourselves with watching their movements, and with making out what we could have done had we been merely on an ordinary shooting trip, or had we been hard up for meat.
TWO ANTELOPES ARE SHOT CLOSE TO CAMP.
We met with a great misfortune that afternoon, for one of the mules had been loaded so carelessly that its baggage, consisting of two yakdans, fell off with a crash on to some ground as hard as rock. One of these yakdans contained my theodolite, and on opening up for the evening's observations, I found the top spirit level was broken, and from that time I had to be dependent only upon the sextant.
As usual we were off by 4.30 a.m., and going on ahead, I climbed up some hills to spy out the land. It was pleasant walking, for grass grew everywhere, and in the lower-lying ground were flowers and water. On crossing a certain ridge I saw two yak grazing quietly, as they probably had done without any interruption ever since they had been dependent upon themselves for picking up a living. I sat down silently, without, however, attempting concealment, to enjoy the sight of watching carefully, at so short a distance, the habits of these massive, dark-haired cattle at home in their wild state. At length the caravan, which had been marching along on much lower ground, over grassy valleys, came in sight, a signal that I must push ahead again and reconnoitre. I rose, therefore, and walked up towards the two yak, and one of them was so tame and eager to make out whatever on earth I was, that he allowed me to walk up to within forty yards of him, so that, had I chosen, I might have given him a very telling shot. As it was, he merely trotted off a short way and started grubbing again.