Our little tent just admitted of our bedding being placed on the ground with a box between as a table, while the men rigged one up with some poles and shawls, and made themselves very snug. Rain again fell that afternoon, and continued to do so throughout the night, until a frost set in, and the rain was changed to snow. We dared hardly think of what was happening to the three mules which had been left free to graze, for there was nowhere else to wander to. At daylight we found the ground covered with four inches of snow, which made us fear the worst. On going outside we found, to our great joy, the three survivors had in no way suffered throughout the night. We made up our minds to husband their strength, and treat them with the greatest care. We were certainly better off as regards grain than we had ever been before, and, instead of driving the mules any more, it was arranged that we should each take turns in leading one. Thus we could pick out the firmer ground, and very often assist the mule where he would otherwise have gone blundering on.
As we left camp 83, a very reduced little party, but full of hope, we found the going even heavier than it had been the previous day, for the animals constantly collapsed in the soft soil on the banks of the nullah; and we came to the conclusion that we were taking too much strength out of them in comparison with the ground we were actually covering, and that, therefore, our wisest plan would be to halt on the first grassy ground we might come to, and there wait in hopes of the weather improving. We had hardly gone two miles when we called a halt. We had found some good grass, and plenty of onions. The sun, too, began to shine, and we trusted we had come to an end of the rain and snow, and that the ground would soon dry up and admit of an early start the following morning. We made a splendid fire with our old tent and bed-poles, and cheered every one up with a good meal of venison and fried onions.
Having thus well fortified ourselves, we shouldered our guns and sallied forth in search of game and to explore ahead for the morrow. We failed in finding anything to shoot, but collected a few more flowers. Our best plan appeared to be to follow the nullah alongside which we had encamped.
CHAPTER XIV.
A SERPENTINE RIVER—HUNGER—MARMOTS—A PLEASANT CAMPING.
As we loaded up the next morning everything was shrouded in a thick white mist, and the ground was white with frost. The going was still very heavy, and the stream, which took a winding course, had to be frequently crossed. It was about ten yards broad, a foot or more deep, swiftly flowing, and very cold.
As the mist lifted the day became warm, and the three mules sank deeper than ever in the sodden ground. In spite of all our efforts, we could only make seven miles' headway, but at the same time we had been steadily descending.
On the banks we found good grass and plenty of onions. I photographed our camp, now much reduced in size, and afterwards set out barefooted down the stream on a journey of exploration, and in the hopes of finding something to shoot.
After paddling on for a short distance I found another important looking stream join its forces with the one I was following. This stream was of equal volume, and flowed in from the north. It would have been impossible to travel in a northerly direction, for the country was very mountainous and barren, stretching eventually on to snow peaks. After a time, I climbed a hill from which I could see there was a third stream flowing into this one, coming from a south-westerly direction. As far as I could judge, the river after this flowed easterly between two ranges of hills. I thought that if we could only follow it we were sure to find game, and perhaps people. It struck me, too, that perhaps it was the Chu Ma, the very river we were after. Although I failed to find anything to shoot, I returned to camp with my information, which we dilated upon and argued over, so as to keep up the spirits of our men, and as rain again set in, it was satisfactory that we had something to fill all with expectation.