Horns of Chiru.
(From Hooker’s ‘Himalayan Journal,’ vol. ii. p. 158.)
But by far the most complete account of the Chiru yet published is that given by General Kinloch in his excellent volume on the ‘Large Game of Tibet and Northern India,’ from the second edition of which, published in 1885, we venture to extract the following particulars:—
“So far as we know, Thibetan Antelopes are never found near the habitations of man, but frequent the plains and elevated valleys far above the limits of cultivation, where few human beings, save occasional wandering shepherds, ever disturb them. The most accessible country to sportsmen where the Thibetan Antelope is to be found is Chung Chenmo, a desolate valley to the north of the Pangong lakes. In this valley, and in those of the streams which flow down to it from the spurs of the Kárá Koram mountains, Antelope are usually plentiful; and they are also to be met with all over the lofty plateau which has to be crossed on the road to Yarkand. A few have been shot in the neighbourhood of the Mánsarovárá lake near the north-western frontier of Nepál, but there are great difficulties in the way of getting there, the Thibetans jealously excluding all foreigners.
“The Thibetan Antelope is considerably larger than the Indian Antelope, and somewhat more heavily made; its remarkable thick coat of closely set brittle hairs also tending to increase its apparent bulk. The color is a light fawn, varying in shade on different parts of the body, and tending almost to white in old buck. The legs are dark-colored, and the faces of very old males are nearly black. The muzzle is very curious; instead of being fine and compressed, as is the case with most deer and antelope, it is considerably enlarged and puffy-looking; so much so, that properly stuffed heads are generally supposed by persons unacquainted with the animal to be failures of the taxidermist.
“The horns are, perhaps, the most graceful of those of any antelope: set close together at the base, they diverge in an easy curve for about two-thirds of their length, and then converging more abruptly, approach each other, in some specimens, within three or four inches at the tips. Out of twenty-five that I have shot I have never seen a pair above twenty-four and a half inches, but considerably longer specimens are to be obtained, and I have recently heard of a pair twenty-eight and a half inches. The horns are jet-black, of very fine grain, with a small central core, and being deeply notched on their anterior surface, they form perfect knife-handles and sword-hilts. When seen in profile, the forward inclination of the horns has a curious effect, the two appearing like a single horn; which has given rise to the belief that the Thibetan Antelope is the Tchirou or Unicorn Antelope mentioned by the Abbé Hue.
“Although living in such remote and sequestered regions, the Thibetan Antelope is wary in its habits. In the mornings and evenings it frequents the grassy margins of glacial streams, which frequently flow between steep banks gradually scarped out by the floods of centuries and now remote from the ordinary water’s edge. The ravines have, for the most part, been cut through gently sloping valleys; and on ascending their steep sides, slightly undulating plains will be found to stretch away, until they merge in the easy slopes of the rounded hills which bound the valley. To these plains the Antelope betake themselves during the day, and there they excavate hollows deep enough to conceal their bodies, from which, themselves unperceived, they can detect any threatening danger at a great distance. In addition to the concealment afforded by their ‘shelter pits,’ they have an additional safeguard against surprise in the constant mirage which prevails on these stony wastes during the bright hours of the day. This mirage not only distorts all visible objects in an extraordinary manner, but, like rippling water, refracts the rays of light to such a degree as to render objects altogether invisible at very short distances. It is, of course, worst near the surface of the ground, but on very hot days it attains a level of several feet; and I well remember, on one occasion, observing the slender horns of an Antelope gliding past me within three hundred yards, apparently borne on the surface of a glassy stream, in which the wearer of the horns was submerged and completely hidden from view! When Antelope are feeding on the grassy flats by the streams is the time when they may be easily approached; and then a knowledge of the ground, and of the habits of the animal, renders success in stalking them tolerably certain.”
How far the Chiru extends into the high plateau of Northern Asia beyond the Himalayas it is yet a little uncertain. Dr. Blanford, in his account of the mammals collected by Stoliczka during the Second Yarkand Mission (where excellent coloured figures of both sexes of this Antelope are given), tells us that it has been found in the Kuen-lun range, but has not been met with further north-west or west. It is also, as we are told by the great Russian traveller and naturalist Przewalski, a characteristic animal of the highlands of Northern Tibet. The “Orongo,” as it is here called by the Monguls and Tanguts, was first met with by the great traveller after crossing the Burkhan Buddha range, beyond which it was found distributed to the south as far as the Tang-la mountains. In Mr. Delmar Morgan’s translation of Przewalski’s travels will be found the following passages relating to the habits of this animal, of which, in the original Russian edition of the work, both sexes are figured:—
“The Orongo is found in small herds from five to twenty or forty head, rarely collecting in large troops of several hundred, and this only where the pasturage is good and plentiful. Though a few of the old bucks, usually accompanying every herd, are more cautious and experienced, the Orongos generally are not so wary in their habits. In their flight the males follow the herd as though to prevent straggling; whilst with the Dzerens and Kara-sultas this order is reversed. When in motion, either leisurely or at full speed, the Orongo holds its horns erect, which adds greatly to its appearance. When trotting—its usual pace—the legs move so quickly that at a distance they are invisible, and dogs or wolves are soon left behind. We arrived in Tibet during the breeding-season of these animals, which begins late in November and lasts a month.
“At this time the full-grown males are in a most exited state, taking little food and soon losing the fat which they had gained during summer. The buck soon forms his harem of ten to twenty wives, and these he jealously guards lest any of them should fall into the power of a rival. No sooner does he see an adversary approaching than he, the lawful lord of the herd, rushes to the encounter with head lowered, uttering short deep bleats. The combat is fierce, and the long sharp horns inflict terrible wounds, often causing the death of both antagonists. Should one feel his strength ebbing, he takes to flight pursued by his enemy, then suddenly wheeling round receives the latter on his horns. As a proof of the fury with which they fight, I remember shooting one of the combatants, who, to my surprise, continued the fight for several minutes after he had received his death-wound, and then suddenly expired. If a doe chance to stray from the herd, the buck immediately gives chase, and, bleating as he goes, tries to drive her back again. While his attention is thus engaged the others give him the slip, and pursuing first one, then another, he often loses his whole harem. At last, deserted by all, he gives vent to his fury and disgust by striking the ground with his hoofs, curving his tail, lowering his horns, and bleating defiance at his compeers. From morning until evening these scenes are constantly occurring, and there appears to be no bond of union between the male antelope and his does; to-day they consort with one buck, to-morrow with another.