The yak when used as a beast of burden will travel twenty miles a day, under a load of two bags of rice or salt, or four or six planks of pine-wood slung in pairs along either flank. Their ears are generally pierced by their drivers, and ornamented with tufts of scarlet worsted. Their true home is on the cold table-lands of Thibet and Tartary, or still higher up among the mountain valleys of the Himalayas, where they feed on grass or the smaller species of carices. They love to browse upon steep places, and to scramble among rocks; and their favourite places for resting or sleeping are on the tops of isolated boulders, where the sun has full play upon them. When taken to warm climates, they languish, and soon die of disease of the liver. It is possible, however, that they could be acclimated in many European countries, were it taken in hand by those who alone have the power to make the trial in a proper manner—I mean the governments of these countries. But such works of utility are about the last things that the tyrants of the earth will be likely to trouble their heads with.


Chapter Twenty Seven.

Curing the Yak-Meat.

Our travellers found the yak-veal excellent, and the three consumed a quarter of it for their breakfasts before their appetites were satisfied.

This business being brought to a conclusion, they held a council as to what was best to be done next. Of course they had already made up their minds to spend some days in this beautiful valley in plant-hunting. From the glance they had had of it, Karl had no doubt that its flora and sylva were exceedingly rich and varied. Indeed, while passing through the underwood he had noticed many curious kinds that were quite new to him, and he would be likely enough to find some altogether unknown to the botanical world. These thoughts filled him with joyful anticipations—bright visions of future triumph in his beloved science passed before his mind’s eye, and he felt for the moment contented and happy.

The peculiar situation of the valley led him to expect a peculiar flora, surrounded as it was by snowy mountains—isolated apparently from other fertile tracts, and sheltered from every wind by the lofty ridges that encircled it. Among other peculiarities he had observed plants of almost tropical genera, although the altitude could not be less than 15,000 feet, and the snowy mountains that towered above it were some of the highest peaks of the Himalayas! These tropical forms had puzzled him not a little, considering the altitude at which he observed them; and to account for the apparent anomaly was one of the thoughts that was passing through his mind at the moment.

As for Caspar, he was pleased to know that his brother desired to remain there for some days. He had less interest in the rare plants, but he had observed that the place was very well stocked with wild animals, and he anticipated no little sport in hunting them.

It is just possible that Ossaroo sighed for the warm plains, for the palm-groves and bamboo thickets, but the shikarree liked the look of the game, and could spend a few days well enough in this region. Moreover, the atmosphere of the valley was much warmer than that of the country in which they had been travelling for several days past. Indeed, the difference was so great as to surprise all three of them, and they could only account for the higher temperature by supposing that it arose from the sheltered situation of the valley itself.