June 23.—Up again before sunrise, and off to the tops of the mountains in search of game. The pull-up took us about an hour and a half, and on reaching the summit, we found ourselves above the pass of the Peer Punjal, the rocky and snow-covered ranges of mountain around us gradually trending off on all sides, and losing themselves in pine-covered slopes, till they finally blended with the blue outlines of the ranges of Pills we had crossed on our route from Bimber. While taking a sharp look around us for a herd of some twenty animals which we had seen the day previously, we suddenly found ourselves close to a party of five markore, but they scampered off so fast over rock and snowdrift, that they gave us no opportunity of getting a shot.
Following them up, we came, while clinging to an overhanging ledge of rock, upon one solitary gentleman standing about 150 yards below. We both fired together, but the pace we had come, and the ground we had crossed, had unsteadied our aim, and though my second bullet parted the wool on his back, it was not written that our first markore was to fall so easily. [[62]]After this we tracked the first herd for a long distance over the snow, until they scampered down an almost perpendicular face of snow and ice, and here we gave them up, halting on a spur of the mountain for a repast of chicken, eggs, chupatties, and cold tea. During our morning’s work we had come across some most break-neck places, and had one or two narrow escapes, which, at the time, one was hardly conscious of. The snow was wedged into the ravines like sheets of ice, and being most precipitous, and continuing to the very foot of the mountains, terminating in the numerous torrents which they fed, a single false step in crossing would have sent one rolling down, without a chance of stopping, to be dashed to pieces at the bottom. In this way, a couple of years before, two coolies and a shikàree had been killed, while shooting with an officer. F. and I generally crossed these places in the footsteps of the guides, or in holes cut by them for our feet with a hatchet; but the men themselves passed them with a dash, which only long practice and complete confidence could have imitated. During our halt we suffered a good deal from the sun, although the snow was only six inches off. In spite of the shade which our guides constructed for us out of mysterious portions of their dress, both our wrists and ankles were completely [[63]]swollen and blistered before evening, while our faces and noses in particular began to assume the appearance so generally suggestive of Port wine and good living.
Our descent to the camp was a good march in itself, and we arrived there about five P.M. hot and tired, ‘but quite ready for our mountain fare. On our road, we luckily discovered a quantity of young rhubarb, growing in nature’s kitchen-garden, and pouncing on it, we devoted it to the celebration of our Sunday dinner.[1] We also saw a number of minaur, or jungle-fowl, something of the pheasant tribe; but they were so wild that nothing but slugs would secure them, and they entirely declined the honour of an invitation to our Sunday entertainment.
June 24.—We were not at all sorry to remember this morning, as the sun rose, that it was a day of rest, for after our last few days of work we were fully able to enjoy it. Amused ourselves exploring all about us, and picking wild flowers in memory of our camp. The commonest were wild pansy and forget-me-not, and the rhododendron grew in quantities. In the afternoon we made a muster of our standing provisions, [[64]]having only brought four days’ supply, and seeing little chance of getting back for ten. The result was., that tea was reported low, potatoes on their last legs, and brandy in a declining state. Under these melancholy circumstances, we agreed to stop another day for shooting, and then march over the snows for Aliabad and Heerpore, to join our main body at the latter place. A road by Cheta Panee was declared impracticable for coolies, in consequence of the hardness of the snow; so we gave it up.
June 25.—All over the mountains again this morning before daybreak, and up to breakfast-time without seeing game. However, one of our sharp-sighted guides then detected markore, grazing at a long distance up the mountains; even through the glasses they were mere specks, and, to our unpractised eyes, very like the tufts and stones around them; but in all faith that our guides were right, off we started in pursuit. The first step was to lose all our morning’s toil by plunging for a mile or so down a steep descent. After that being accomplished, up we went again, up and up an apparently interminable bank of snow, at an angle of about sixty degrees, and slippery as glass. At the summit, exhausted and completely out of breath, we did at last arrive, and from this our friends of the morning were [[65]]expected to be within shot. Not a sign of a living creature appeared, however, to enliven the solitude around us, and we began to think that our guides were a little too clear-sighted this time, when what should suddenly come upon us but a solitary old markore, slowly and leisurely rounding a rugged point of rock below. We were all squatted in a bunch upon a space about as large as a good-sized towel; but, hidden as we thought ourselves, I could discern that our friend had evidently caught a glimpse of something which displeased him in his morning cogitations. Still, on he came, and just as he crossed a small field of snow, F. opened fire at him across the ravine: the ball struck just below his body, and, as he plunged forward, I followed with both barrels. On he went, however, and before another shot could be fired he was coolly looking down upon us from a terrace of inaccessible rocks, completely out of range. Nothing remained but to descend again, and this we accomplished very much more speedily, though perhaps not quite in such a graceful style as we had ascended. The shikàrees merely sat down on the inclined plane, and with a hatchet or a stick firmly pressed under the arm as a lever to regulate the pace, or a rudder to steer clear of rocks as occasion might require, down they went at a tremendous pace, [[66]]until the slope was not sufficient to propel them further.
Our own wardrobe being limited in dimensions we declined adopting this mode of locomotion, and slipping and sliding along, soon accomplished the descent, in a less business-like but equally satisfactory manner. While taking the direction of our camp, we espied seven more animals, perched apparently upon a smooth face of rock; and after a short council of war off we started on a fresh stalk, down another descent, over more fields of snow, and up a place where a cat would have found walking difficult.
While accomplishing this latter movement, our guides detected two huge red bears, an enormous distance off, enjoying themselves in the evening air, and feeding and scratching themselves alternately, as they sauntered about in the breeze. Abandoning our present stalk, which was not promising, down we went again, and crossing about a mile and a half of broken ground, snow, rocks, &c., we reached a wood close to the whereabouts of our new game. F. and I, separating, had made the place by different routes, and just as I had caught sight of one enormous monster, F. and the shikàree appeared, just on the point of walking into his jaws. Having, by great exertion, prevented this [[67]]catastrophe, we massed our forces, and taking off our hats, just as if we were stalking an unpopular landed proprietor in Tipperary, we crept up to within sixty yards of the unsuspicious monster, and fired both together. With a howl and a grunt, the huge mass doubled himself up, and rolled into the cover badly wounded. Being too dangerous a looking customer to follow directly, we reloaded and made a circuit above him; and after a short search, discovered him with his paws firmly clasped round a young tree. By way of finishing him, I gave him the contents of my rifle behind the ear, and we then rolled him down a ravine on to the snow beneath, where, a heavy storm of rain, hail, and thunder coming on, we left him alone in his glory. Putting our best legs foremost, we made for our camp, amid a pelting shower of hail like bullets and an incessant play of lightning around us, as we pushed our way along the frozen torrent. About five P.M., tired and drenched, we reached the camp, when we discovered that our tents, though extremely handy for mountain work, were not intended to keep out much rain, and that all our rugs, and other comforts, were almost in as moist a state as ourselves. During the entire night it continued to hail, rain, thunder, and lighten; and with the exception of the exact [[68]]spots we were each lying on, there was not a dry place in the tent to take refuge in.
June 26.—After an exceedingly moist night, we made the most of a little sunshine by turning out all our property, and hanging it around us on stones and bushes to dry. After we had distinguished ourselves in this way, for a couple of hours, down came the rain again; and after stowing our half-dried goods, we assembled under a tree, and held a council of war as to our future movements. The rain had swelled the mountain torrents considerably, and the hail, lying on the old snow, had made it slippery as glass, so that we were obliged to give up the mountain pass we had agreed upon, and decided on a retreat to “Poshana,” our present ground being fairly untenable. Sending off our tents and traps, and half-drowned servants, who were completely out of their element, we remained behind under the pines till the rain a little abated, and having secured the bear-skin for curing, we started off with our rear-guard for Poshana. The road was so slippery, that even with grass-shoes we could hardly keep from falling; and the snow we found as hard as ice, and proportionately difficult to cross. The consequence was, that in passing a steep incline with the guide, he slipped, and I followed his example, and down we both [[69]]went like an engine and tender, the guide fishing about with his legs for obstacles, and I above him, endeavouring to use my pole as an anchor to bring us to.
Luckily, we both reached terra firma safely, after a perilous run, though at the same side we started from, and a long distance from our point of previous departure. On at length reaching the opposite side, we found a disconsolate coolie bemoaning himself and reckoning his bones, having also fallen down the snow, while a little further on we came upon the bhistie lamenting over a similar disaster. The latter functionary had also lost a valuable pot of virgin honey, which had only come up from Poshana the day before, and which we had not had time to see the inside of even, ere it was thus lost to us for ever, and made over as a poetical reparation to the bears of the country for the ruthless murder we had committed on one of their number. Found the hut at Poshana empty, and were glad to get into its shelter again. The rain seeming quite set in, we determined to discharge our shikàrees, and after paying them three rupees each for their week’s work, we sent them away perfectly happy, with a few copper caps and a good character apiece.
June 27.—Left Poshana at five A.M., and [[70]]made for the Peer Punjal pass. A sharp struggle brought us to the summit, where we found a polygon tower erected, apparently as a landmark and also a resting-place for travellers to recover themselves after their exertions.[2] At the Cashmere side of the pass I had expected to see something of the far-famed valley, but nothing met the eye but a wild waste of land, bounded on all sides by snow, while a few straggling coolies toiled up towards us with some itinerant Englishman’s baggage like our own.