It was my wish to start early, but the ground was white with snow at daybreak. In consequence, as we marched along the edge of the lake, the going was of the heaviest. A kyang came trotting up to see what we were after. Unfortunately, I only broke his foreleg, for, although I chased him for a very long way, he was still able to evade my shots and escape. It was satisfactory to find oneself marching east again. I at length pitched camp close to the water's edge, opposite my camp of the day before, on the other side of the arm.
As soon as the storm which had broken over us had passed off, I climbed the grassy hills that bordered the north shore of the lake, to shoot some food. I crept close up to two yak and wounded one of them, and chased him till the approaching darkness and a violent storm warned me it was time to return. I cared not how it rained, for I was angry and vexed with myself at having in one day wounded two harmless animals, and at the same time at having provided no food for the party.
As I made my way homewards along and down the steep grassy slopes, I saw another kyang, and, to fill up the cup of anguish, I wounded him, even with my last round of ammunition. Although in this condition he could not travel fast, still he could evade my getting near him. By exerting myself to the utmost, I found I could not only keep him in sight, but could drive him in the direction I wanted. It flashed across my mind, what if I could actually drive the poor kyang as far as the camp, where he would be caught, and oceans of meat would be provided for all, without the trouble of having to fetch it? Then on looking round I knew that darkness would end the chase, for camp was some miles off. As I pursued the kyang, or rather drove him, he entered a steepish nullah, down which a stream flowed, and by the side of this he succumbed. I rushed up with mixed feelings of joy and pity, and before he could struggle to his feet I had plunged my knife into him. At the same moment a deafening storm of thunder and lightning broke over me, and darkness followed.
For fear of losing my way I kept to the nullah, which finally emerged by the edge of the lake, along whose banks I trudged till, eventually, a dim light from the men's tent showed me where the camp was. Shortly after my arrival the storm passed off and the moon shone out. The men were hungry, and when I narrated my adventures, two of them, arming themselves with knives and a sack, set out under the lucid instructions I gave them to find the kyang and bring in some of the flesh. I had slept soundly before I was aroused again by the arrival of the hissing frying pan into my tent, alive with fresh meat and wild onions.
The morning after these storms was still, as though the elements had exhausted themselves. The lake resembled a large sheet of the smoothest glass, partially hidden by some light clouds that rested on it, awaiting a breath of wind or the sun's rays before they could be lifted. As I walked along the edge of the water I shot four hares, for in some of the rocky places they were plentiful enough.
Although I had hit off a well-defined track frequented by wild animals, still the sandy soil was so laden with moisture that the mules sank deep at almost every step. The lake, by reason of its sandy and rocky shore, reminded me more of an inlet sea than anything else. Then grassy slopes with flowers and vegetables eventually rose into high hills, which again were backed by snow-capped peaks. On the south side of the lake a vast plain extended to distant mountains. In whatever direction I chanced to look numbers of wild yak and kyang could be seen grazing, while on the lake itself many water-fowl had found a home. It was a veritable sportsman's or artist's paradise.
As soon as the mules were tired, I halted and went off to shoot a yak. A yak was always preferable to a kyang, for there was more fat to be got from the body. I soon found one above camp and had but little difficulty in shooting him. Having loaded myself with a sack of meat I descended again to camp. On arrival, to my surprise, Malcolm and Esau had returned. They had had, in fact, enough of trying to find people in stormy weather, when they had not even been able to light a fire. They, however, gave good reports of the road ahead, which they said would still bring us to abundance of grass teeming with yak, at the same time gradually descending.
This afternoon the three mules unfortunately strayed, and we turned into bed without even knowing where they had gone to. It seemed as though they were tired of carrying heavy loads over sodden ground and were bent upon a little pleasure of their own. One of the three mules invariably used to give us a deal of trouble in catching him for loading up. We found the only way of securing the rascal was for two of us to hold a long rope at both ends, allowing it to lie flat on the ground. Then the rest of us would drive the mule towards the rope, which was tightened as he reached it. Then those who held the two ends would run round in opposite directions, and thus encircle the animal in the coils. This plan, however, took up so much time and energy that eventually we used to fasten the mule with a long rope to one of the other two, when there was no difficulty in catching him. Of course, when his load was on, he made no attempt at escaping, but rather the reverse, for he would thrust himself forward as much as to say, "Just take off these things, please, and let's be off." He was a wonderfully clever mule, and the most useful one we had. Although small, he used to carry 400 pounds weight of baggage, about the equal of what the other two carried together.
After we had tracked the three wandering mules, who had selected a cosy nook, well concealed from view, we continued our march along the edge of the lake. Hares, terns, and gulls fell to our guns, and at night-time we camped by a garden of onions and rhubarb. Although this wonderful lake was a charming and delightful spot, with a genial climate, still we were not sorry on the 26th August to reach the eastern corner of it. Here we found sandy, hillocky ground, with good grass, a favourite haunt of the kyang.
A short distance from the lake we were lucky enough to strike another small stream, that took its rise from some of the neighbouring hills. This stream flowed away in an easterly direction, sometimes sluggish, at others fairly fast. The water was clear with sandy bottom, a few yards across, and only about a foot deep. In some places we could see numbers of tiny fish, which always made off at our approach. The banks of this little stream were sandy and grassy. All were delighted at having hit upon this sign of civilization. We decided, whatever happened, to follow it. By so doing we knew we must be descending the whole time, and what was more important still, we knew we should never suffer from scarcity of water. There would be, as well, always more chance of finding game and grass. We made a double and pleasant march along the stream, which all the time was increasing in volume, but at night-time we were almost beaten down by a heavy thunder-storm.