SHOOTING AN ANTELOPE—SNOW—A MYSTERIOUS TRACK—THE BED OF AN ANCIENT
LAKE—EMOTION OF MAHOMED RAHIM—VARIABLE WEATHER—MORE ANTELOPES
SHOT—THEODOLITE BROKEN—EXTRAORDINARILY SUDDEN WIND—HUNGER _v._
CEREMONY—NEW FINDS.
Before starting forth again we upbraided the head muleteer, Ghulam
Russul, for his chicken-heartedness and bad example to the rest of
the men. He denied a grumbling spirit, and said he was brave and ready
to undergo any hardship, and follow us anywhere, but as to the other
men, he said they were a discontented lot. Knowing as we did how he
influenced them, his statement bore no weight with us. We made a double
march over undulating grassy country, intersected by some broad gravel
nullahs, running almost at right angles to our course. South of us lay
a range of hills running east and west, making it appear as though a
river were running along at their base, and for this reason we intended
to steer gradually for them.
At night we found a well-sheltered nook, with water close at hand,
and such splendid grass that we were induced to remain half the next
day and feed up; besides, there had been no signs at all of Tokhta and
Sulloo, and we considered this the last hope of ever seeing them again.
Henceforth we would make no more provision for their coming, in the
shape of leaving food and grain behind. It was fortunate we had fixed
on a half day's halt, for at daybreak there was a strong wind blowing
from the north with driving sleet. The grass at this camp, No. 56, had
far more nourishment in it than any other grass we had come across up to
the present, and Ghulam Russul remarked that if we saw more grass like
it we were sure to come across nomads, so all were, for the time being,
in a more hopeful frame of mind. The melting snow had made the marching
somewhat heavy, and there was no lack of water.
Soon after starting, Malcolm, who had gone on ahead, came hurrying
back to me, with the request that I would come with him and shoot an
antelope, for he had seen a great number of them. Shortly afterwards
we saw a large herd grazing or playing about as antelopes do, but one
of them, without the slightest provocation, came trotting towards us;
perhaps he was wondering whatever could have brought such queer-looking
creatures there as we were. We sat down to make ourselves still more
mysterious and to receive him, when suddenly his instinct seemed to
tell him that there was just a suspicion of danger attached to us, for
he started off at a gallop, crossing our front at about fifty yards
distance. We both fired simultaneously at so inviting a mark, and both
hit. It was a sight worth seeing, an antelope retreating at top speed
in a second bowled over quite dead, so much so that when Mahomed Rahim,
who was at hand, rushed up to hallal him, no blood would flow from the
operation, and the men declared it was not fit for them to eat. In one
way it was satisfactory to hear them say this, for we were convinced
that up to date they had not been suffering from hunger. If they had, no
hesitation, through religious scruples, would have arisen about eating
the antelope's flesh.
We halted by a lake whose water tasted very nearly fresh, but the banks
were so treacherous that it was a hazardous undertaking to get close to
it, and after our previous experience we preferred digging instead. This
very likely accounted for the absence of game in the neighbourhood, that
they could not get to the water; but it is difficult to account for the
absence of birds on the lake itself, for there was not even a Brahmini
duck. A bright night, and we made preparations for a very early start
the next morning, but the ill luck that sometimes accompanied us had
brought another storm, so that the ground bore a very white appearance,
and all idea of marching, for the time being, had to be abandoned. By
noon, although the ground was still heavy, we ventured forth again, and
hit off another large lake containing water very nearly fresh.
Throughout the day storms continued to rage around us amidst the
adjacent hills, but, fortunately, none fell actually over us; we could
not help reflecting how all this snow must have entirely baffled Sulloo
and Tokhta in their tracking us, that is, if they had attempted to do
so. Everywhere the country was beautifully grassy, and occasionally we
picked a new species of flower. Another large lake was situated to the
north of us, and during our march down the valley the hills that lay
both north and south were gradually closing in. As we proceeded, the
going became more difficult. In addition to another snowstorm which had
fallen during the night, the valley became split up by irregular nullahs
and hills running in every direction, with no defined features.
We continued making our double marches, and as the loads were becoming
lighter we hoped to cover fifteen miles a day. One great continuous
anxiety was the task of finding enough game to shoot, that we might all
live. At one time it would be plentiful enough, at others for days we
could find nothing. On some nights we registered over twenty degrees of
frost, and still remained over 16,000 feet above the sea level, and at
this great height we actually saw a brown butterfly.
On the 20th of July we began to notice the days were growing shorter,
as the sun would rise just a few minutes before 5 o'clock; but the whole
country appeared to be changing for the better, which in no small degree
alleviated our fears of being able to get across this high plateau
before the cold weather should set in. Generally speaking, everywhere
there was more grass growing, and, instead of the coarse tufts we had
been accustomed to see, their place was taken by short crisp grass,
the kind of growth that is so much sought after by the nomads. We were,
too, making a very gradual descent, and felt convinced that, with such
natural signs, we must before very long hit off streams which would lead
us to some sort of civilization.
At our midday halt the men's spirits were more cheerful. We had stopped
in a fine broad nullah, running nearly due east, with pleasant-looking
grassy hills sloping down on either side, and, with a cloudless sky
and no wind, we were glad to sit in our shirt-sleeves, whilst our
twelve veteran mules, with their saddles off, rolled in the sand before
enjoying the rich grass and water. We began to pick fresh additions
to our flower collection, the specimens being chiefly of a mauve or
white colour, and up to the present time we had only found one yellow
flower. At 7.30 P.M., in Camp 61, at a height of over 16,000 feet, the
temperature was forty degrees Fahrenheit, and during the night there
were nineteen degrees of frost. Fine grass and fine weather still
favoured us, while the presence of a number of sand-grouse indicated
that water was at no great distance off.
Just after leaving Camp 62, we were all struck with wonderment at
finding a track running almost at right angles to our own route. It was
so well defined, and bore such unmistakable signs of a considerable
amount of traffic having gone along it, that we concluded it could
be no other than a high road from Turkistan to the mysterious Lhassa,
yet the track was not more than a foot broad. Our surmises, too, were
considerably strengthened when one of the men picked up the entire leg
bone of some baggage animal, probably a mule, for still adhering to the
leg was a shoe. This was a sure proof that the road had been made use
of by some merchant or explorer, and that it could not have been merely
a kyang or yak track, or one made use of only by nomads, for they never
shoe their animals in this part of the world.
Such a startling discovery as this bore weight with the men, and nothing
would have suited their spirits better than to have stuck to the track
and march northwards, and they evidently thought us strange mortals for
not following this course; therefore, instead of being elated with joy,
they became more despondent than ever when they found we were still
bent upon blundering along in our eastern route. But it was our strong
belief that we should for a certainty find people in a very few days'
time, and this being the case, we did not see the force of travelling in
a wrong direction, and put aside the objects for which we had set out,
just to suit the passing whim of a few craven-hearted men, especially
when we knew that the cause of their running short of food and
consequent trouble was entirely due to their own dishonest behaviour.
We did, however, send one man, Mahomed Rahim, supplied with food, with
instructions to follow the road north as far as he had courage to go,
thinking that when he had crossed a certain range of hills he would
discover the whereabouts of people. Furthermore we explained to him the
way we intended going, so that there could be no chance of his losing
himself.
A mile or so further on we came to the dried-up salt bed of a very
ancient lake. The salt was in every shape and form of crustation,
and the whole lake for several miles across was divided up into small
squares with walls one to three feet high, rugged and irregular. The
going across this was troublesome and arduous, first stumbling over one
wall, then crossing a few yards of crumbling, crystallised salt before
another had to be scrambled over. Thus it went on for mile after mile,
and the length of the lake being most deceptive it seemed as though we
should never, _never_ cross it. As the sun rose higher some of the salt
composite melted, and then we found ourselves first in slush, then on a
bit of hard, rugged going, most liable to cause a sprain to any of the
mules. It became evident that unless we were pretty smart in getting
off the lake altogether, we should find ourselves bogged there for the
rest of the day; thus our first idea of going straight ahead across the
lake had to fall through, and we steered for the nearest shore, which
was on the southern side, all the time the ground getting worse and more
treacherous. When, only in the nick of time, we did stand on a sound
footing again, we congratulated ourselves that for once only had we
deviated a short way from our course. Although this salt bed had proved
such an unforeseen obstacle in our line, still it was useful to us in
another way. The salt was of an excellent quality, and we were able to
replenish our store of this most necessary article, of which there was
so little left that we were carefully economising it.
During the morning's march next day we shot an antelope and a kyang,
and not wishing to delay the mules or to overload them, we left two men
behind, Ghulam Russul and Shukr Ali, to cut up the meat and bring it
in, whilst we continued in search of a suitable spot for a midday halt.
This was a plan we frequently adopted, and there were always volunteers
to stop behind, for by doing so they took good care to light a fire
and feast on the tit-bits to their hearts' content, and well fortify
themselves before carrying the load of meat to their fellow muleteers.
We had halted, and were expecting the arrival of these two men, when
Mahomed Rahim, who had been sent to follow up the track, rejoined us,
and as he approached we could see he was weeping bitterly. On asking
the man what ailed him, he sobbed out that he had lost his way. He was
a ludicrous sight, for he was a great, big, strong fellow, and we asked
him, if he wept like this at finding us again after only being absent
a day and a night, how would he weep had he not found us at all? We fed
up the great baby with some unleavened bread, which he ate voraciously
amidst his sobs. Some kyang came trotting up to camp with a look of
wonderment at our being present there, and as we were about to move off
some antelopes also came to inspect us.
The men carried quantities of cooked meat about their persons, wrapped
up in their clothes, and as they tramped along they munched almost
incessantly at the tough food tending to make them very thirsty, so that
when we halted for the night they suffered considerably, for the water
we dug out was too salt for drinking.
The following morning we came to a most dreary-looking region,
ornamented only with a big salt lake, without any vegetation or kind
of life, making us eager to get across such a solitude. At the east end
of the lake we marched over rising ground up a nullah about a couple of
miles before we came to some fairly good grass, where we called a halt,
never dreaming that we were doomed to an unpleasant disappointment.
On getting up some water from below the surface, we found it to be
the worst we had tasted, quite impossible for man or beast to drink.
Two of the men, however, did gulp some of it down, and suffered in
consequence for their indulgence. Their thirst became far more acute
than was that of the rest of us. We were afraid that should we find no
water by the evening, it would go badly with all. Some of the animals
were too thirsty even to eat the grass. We, therefore, made an earlier
start than usual, sending on ahead a couple of men to search for water
in some likely-looking ground that lay some distance on in front on our
right flank.
As we were marching along in silence, we suddenly saw the two men were
coming towards us, and as soon as they drew near enough for the other
muleteers to see by their animated appearance that they had found water,
they made a general rush towards them, forgetful of what became of the
mules, or whether Malcolm and myself had any water at all. Their one
and only thought, as usual, was themselves. A few miles further on we
found two pools of good water, and resolved to remain there half a day
to give the animals a chance of regaining their lost strength.
During the night our tent had great difficulty in withstanding the
wind, that blew with much violence, while the temperature fell to
twenty-one degrees of frost. As we had run short of iron pegs, we found
a most efficient substitute in fastening the ropes to our tin boxes of
ammunition. On other occasions, too, the ground was so sandy that pegs
were entirely useless, and each rope had to be fastened to a yakdan, or
to one of our bags of grain.
During the afternoon we marched along a broad, grassy, and somewhat
monotonous valley, steering for some snow peaks we had seen the
previous day. We found no game, excepting sand-grouse, which, by their
unmistakable notes, made their presence known in the mornings up to 8
or 9 o'clock, and after sunset.
On the 26th July we left Camp 66, moving off by moonlight, for the
going was easy. On halting for breakfast, two antelopes ventured to
come and have a look at us, and, of course, paid the penalty of death.
Such an opportunity as this was not to be thrown away, and laying them
together, I photographed them, and afterwards cut them up, carrying as
much meat as we possibly could manage—enough for three or four days'
consumption. The afternoon was hot, like a summer's day in England. Some
yak, resembling big black dots, could be seen in several of the grassy
nullahs: a trying temptation to have a stalk after them, for the ground
was of such a nature that with care one might have come up to within a
hundred yards of some of them without being seen. But then it would have
been useless to slaughter them, so we contented ourselves with watching
their movements, and with making out what we could have done had we been
merely on an ordinary shooting trip, or had we been hard up for meat.
[Illustration: TWO ANTELOPES ARE SHOT CLOSE TO CAMP.]
We met with a great misfortune that afternoon, for one of the mules had
been loaded so carelessly that its baggage, consisting of two yakdans,
fell off with a crash on to some ground as hard as rock. One of these
yakdans contained my theodolite, and on opening up for the evening's
observations, I found the top spirit level was broken, and from that
time I had to be dependent only upon the sextant.
As usual we were off by 4.30 A.M., and going on ahead, I climbed up
some hills to spy out the land. It was pleasant walking, for grass
grew everywhere, and in the lower-lying ground were flowers and water.
On crossing a certain ridge I saw two yak grazing quietly, as they
probably had done without any interruption ever since they had been
dependent upon themselves for picking up a living. I sat down silently,
without, however, attempting concealment, to enjoy the sight of
watching carefully, at so short a distance, the habits of these massive,
dark-haired cattle at home in their wild state. At length the caravan,
which had been marching along on much lower ground, over grassy valleys,
came in sight, a signal that I must push ahead again and reconnoitre. I
rose, therefore, and walked up towards the two yak, and one of them was
so tame and eager to make out whatever on earth I was, that he allowed
me to walk up to within forty yards of him, so that, had I chosen, I
might have given him a very telling shot. As it was, he merely trotted
off a short way and started grubbing again.
Ahead of us was a range of mountains, an imposing sight, with grand snow
peaks, the very ones we had been steering for. From the high ground
it seemed as though there was a pass leading over them between two of
the peaks, but entirely without vegetation. It was impossible to make
out how far the pass went, and what would be in store for us after we
had reached the point as far as we could see. We calculated that the
climb in our present condition could not have been done in one march,
and wondered how we could strengthen our animals sufficiently for the
second march, if there were no grass at the end of the first. We knew
from experience that an ascent of this description would have taken more
out of our mules than several days of ordinary marching, and therefore
determined to abandon the idea of surmounting the pass, or rather what
appeared to be a pass, but to strike north, finding a way somehow or
other round the entire range.
As we steered for some extra good-looking grass and water by which to
make our midday halt and give the mules their midday graze, a couple
of inquisitive yak actually came trotting after us, keeping at a
distance of two or three hundred yards. Such boldness augured well for a
plentiful supply of good meat in the future. We were glad to pitch our
tent in this pleasant spot for a few hours, and even under that shade
the maximum thermometer registered seventy-five degrees.
Having breakfasted off our antelope meat and some good tea, we were
busy with our maps, and drying flowers, etc. Everything was spread
out—for such frail specimens it was a splendid opportunity; the men were
sleeping, too. The mules, having eaten their fill, were standing still
enjoying the rest and perfect peace; all was absolute silence, with the
exception of our own chatting to each other, as we amused ourselves
with our hobbies, when without a moment's notice a powerful blast of
wind caught us with such violence that the tent was blown down and many
things were carried completely away, and our camp, which only a second
ago had been the most peaceful scene imaginable, became a turbulent one
of utter confusion, as every one jumped up in an instant, anxious to
save anything he could lay hold of, or to run frantically after whatever
had escaped—for some things were being carried along at a terrific rate.
Fortunately the loss, compared to the excitement, was trifling; but we
made up our minds not to be caught napping in this way again.
That same afternoon, after marching north, we crossed a river that
took its rise from the snow peaks; the bed was sandy, about half a mile
across, with several small, swiftly-flowing streams about a foot deep,
which had to be crossed barefooted. This was the largest body of water
we had as yet come across, and there was much speculation amongst us as
to where it would lead, and we thought we should at any rate not lose
sight of its course. Splendid green grass and flowers were flourishing
everywhere. Vegetables, too, were a valuable addition to our table, for
besides the "kumbuk" and "hann," we here first found the wild onion,
which afterwards formed the chief staple of our food. Onions cut up
into pieces and fried in yak's fat, was a dish appetising at these great
heights in the absence of other food, besides being very sustaining and
an excellent medicine for all internal complaints. On some nights the
mules and ponies were wont to stray, but with such good grass close
at hand, and the presence of water in more than one place, as a rule
they did not go very far; but, as we could not run the risk of a long
delay, the first thing in the morning, they were nearly always watched
throughout the night in turn by the men. We found a nullah with a small
stream in it running eastwards, rising all the time, and marched up it,
leaving the river to wind its way north; we had no real fear of losing
it, for we could see it turned east again later on. At the top of the
pass we found another nullah running northwards, and followed this down
to a prairie-like looking valley, thence on to a beautiful lake. At the
western extremity we could see it was fed by the river we had crossed
the day before. All around the valleys and hills were green, and on many
of them the grazing yak were dotted about in great numbers.
As we were now running short of meat I instituted a stalk against one
of them, and took a vast amount of trouble and exertion in order to
come to a close range before firing, little knowing that it was a waste
of labour, as one could have approached them with taking only ordinary
precautions. Close to the yak were several kyang, who were the more
watchful of the two, for they were the first to notice my crawling along
and at once stood up in bewilderment, but beyond that they did nothing
more, so that I was enabled, without in the remotest degree disturbing
the yak, to get within sixty yards of them. There I took my shot and
bowled over with a single bullet the one which I considered to be the
juiciest-looking one in the herd. The rest of them merely raised their
heads for a moment at the unwonted noise, and then began to graze again,
making no attempt to escape. I, too, then rose, and it was only after a
deal of shouting that they grasped that it really was rather dangerous
to remain where they were, thereupon off they trotted across the valley,
far, far away. Not so the herd of kyang, who appeared the most disturbed
at first; they continued to manœuvre around the whole time we were
there, as though inviting us to try our skill on them, but one dead yak
is oceans of meat for a much larger caravan than ours, for many a day.
As soon as one of the men had come up, I told him to look sharp and
cut its throat for it was not quite dead, although in reality it had
breathed its last some ten minutes ago. He at once set to work, but
so tough was the hide, and so blunt his knife, that he could not cut
through it, and merely first pricked it with the point; and although no
blood exuded, he nevertheless told the other men that he had properly
hallaled the brute, and they by this time having become less scrupulous
with regard to their religious custom, made no bones about arguing as
to the meat being unfit for them to eat. As a matter of fact they were
beginning to learn what real hunger was. Some of them came to help cut
off the meat in a business-like sort of way, pretending not to examine
the throat at all.
As we made our midday halt only a hundred yards from the carcass, all
fed right royally, and carried off large lumps of the flesh as well. The
men, too, were in high spirits, for they had found a very old chula, or
fireplace, consisting of three stones, and what was still more joyful
tidings, close to the dead yak ran a narrow track actually in the
direction we intended going.
About here we also saw some new creatures—large marmots, butterflies,
and hoopoos. I skinned one of the latter. Such fresh sights, and the
discovery of the track in addition to the improvement in the climate,
the grass and abundance of water, made all eager to be off again in
expectation as to where the track would lead us.