Ahead of us was a range of mountains, an imposing sight, with grand snow peaks, the very ones we had been steering for. From the high ground it seemed as though there was a pass leading over them between two of the peaks, but entirely without vegetation. It was impossible to make out how far the pass went, and what would be in store for us after we had reached the point as far as we could see. We calculated that the climb in our present condition could not have been done in one march, and wondered how we could strengthen our animals sufficiently for the second march, if there were no grass at the end of the first. We knew from experience that an ascent of this description would have taken more out of our mules than several days of ordinary marching, and therefore determined to abandon the idea of surmounting the pass, or rather what appeared to be a pass, but to strike north, finding a way somehow or other round the entire range.
As we steered for some extra good-looking grass and water by which to make our midday halt and give the mules their midday graze, a couple of inquisitive yak actually came trotting after us, keeping at a distance of two or three hundred yards. Such boldness augured well for a plentiful supply of good meat in the future. We were glad to pitch our tent in this pleasant spot for a few hours, and even under that shade the maximum thermometer registered seventy-five degrees.
Having breakfasted off our antelope meat and some good tea, we were busy with our maps, and drying flowers, etc. Everything was spread out—for such frail specimens it was a splendid opportunity; the men were sleeping, too. The mules, having eaten their fill, were standing still enjoying the rest and perfect peace; all was absolute silence, with the exception of our own chatting to each other, as we amused ourselves with our hobbies, when without a moment's notice a powerful blast of wind caught us with such violence that the tent was blown down and many things were carried completely away, and our camp, which only a second ago had been the most peaceful scene imaginable, became a turbulent one of utter confusion, as every one jumped up in an instant, anxious to save anything he could lay hold of, or to run frantically after whatever had escaped—for some things were being carried along at a terrific rate. Fortunately the loss, compared to the excitement, was trifling; but we made up our minds not to be caught napping in this way again.
That same afternoon, after marching north, we crossed a river that took its rise from the snow peaks; the bed was sandy, about half a mile across, with several small, swiftly-flowing streams about a foot deep, which had to be crossed barefooted. This was the largest body of water we had as yet come across, and there was much speculation amongst us as to where it would lead, and we thought we should at any rate not lose sight of its course. Splendid green grass and flowers were flourishing everywhere. Vegetables, too, were a valuable addition to our table, for besides the "kumbuk" and "hann," we here first found the wild onion, which afterwards formed the chief staple of our food. Onions cut up into pieces and fried in yak's fat, was a dish appetising at these great heights in the absence of other food, besides being very sustaining and an excellent medicine for all internal complaints. On some nights the mules and ponies were wont to stray, but with such good grass close at hand, and the presence of water in more than one place, as a rule they did not go very far; but, as we could not run the risk of a long delay, the first thing in the morning, they were nearly always watched throughout the night in turn by the men. We found a nullah with a small stream in it running eastwards, rising all the time, and marched up it, leaving the river to wind its way north; we had no real fear of losing it, for we could see it turned east again later on. At the top of the pass we found another nullah running northwards, and followed this down to a prairie-like looking valley, thence on to a beautiful lake. At the western extremity we could see it was fed by the river we had crossed the day before. All around the valleys and hills were green, and on many of them the grazing yak were dotted about in great numbers.
As we were now running short of meat I instituted a stalk against one of them, and took a vast amount of trouble and exertion in order to come to a close range before firing, little knowing that it was a waste of labour, as one could have approached them with taking only ordinary precautions. Close to the yak were several kyang, who were the more watchful of the two, for they were the first to notice my crawling along and at once stood up in bewilderment, but beyond that they did nothing more, so that I was enabled, without in the remotest degree disturbing the yak, to get within sixty yards of them. There I took my shot and bowled over with a single bullet the one which I considered to be the juiciest-looking one in the herd. The rest of them merely raised their heads for a moment at the unwonted noise, and then began to graze again, making no attempt to escape. I, too, then rose, and it was only after a deal of shouting that they grasped that it really was rather dangerous to remain where they were, thereupon off they trotted across the valley, far, far away. Not so the herd of kyang, who appeared the most disturbed at first; they continued to manœuvre around the whole time we were there, as though inviting us to try our skill on them, but one dead yak is oceans of meat for a much larger caravan than ours, for many a day.
As soon as one of the men had come up, I told him to look sharp and cut its throat for it was not quite dead, although in reality it had breathed its last some ten minutes ago. He at once set to work, but so tough was the hide, and so blunt his knife, that he could not cut through it, and merely first pricked it with the point; and although no blood exuded, he nevertheless told the other men that he had properly hallaled the brute, and they by this time having become less scrupulous with regard to their religious custom, made no bones about arguing as to the meat being unfit for them to eat. As a matter of fact they were beginning to learn what real hunger was. Some of them came to help cut off the meat in a business-like sort of way, pretending not to examine the throat at all.
As we made our midday halt only a hundred yards from the carcass, all fed right royally, and carried off large lumps of the flesh as well. The men, too, were in high spirits, for they had found a very old chula, or fireplace, consisting of three stones, and what was still more joyful tidings, close to the dead yak ran a narrow track actually in the direction we intended going.
About here we also saw some new creatures—large marmots, butterflies, and hoopoos. I skinned one of the latter. Such fresh sights, and the discovery of the track in addition to the improvement in the climate, the grass and abundance of water, made all eager to be off again in expectation as to where the track would lead us.
CHAPTER XII.
A FOOTPRINT—SHAHZAD MIR INDISPOSED—DESERTION OF MULETEERS—A RAINY NIGHT.