SHOOTING—A TROUBLESOME MULE—A YAK CEMETERY—I CHASE A KYANG—TENDER
HEARTS—INSCRIBED STONES—LASSOO AND SHUKR ALI SICK—AN ARDUOUS
CROSSING.
After a frosty night, a still morning with a cloudless sky favoured us
as we started forth to cross the stream that barred our way. It was no
easy undertaking, for the sand was deep and treacherous, and the stream
was filled with great lumps of floating ice. Some time was spent in
these aquatic operations, for the mules sank deep into the water and
had to be unloaded. Two fine gulls flew overhead, affording an easy shot
for our guns and food for the party.
We made a double march to-day, and in the afternoon pursued our course
along the sandy bed of the river, congratulating ourselves upon the firm
level going. Presently, the river made a bend, so that if we wanted to
stick to the bed, it became necessary to recross it. On sounding the
bottom for this purpose we found it far too treacherous to dream of
doing so. On first inspection of the banks of the river it seemed as
though we should have to retrace our steps, for they looked too steep
for climbing up. Still, we found that, owing to the soft nature of the
sand, we were able to reach the top by marching in a slanting direction.
By taking our time we at length reached the grassy plains above, and
decided for the future to stick to them, instead of the uncertain bed
of the river.
On the 20th August we found we were again running out of meat, and
decided whenever we saw anything to shoot that one of us should go after
it, and if successful, that the caravan should at once halt. The country
was favourable for game, so we had but little doubt that we should soon
supply our wants. Such proved to be the case, for Malcolm shot a kyang,
and we were all soon making a square meal.
We were ready for a second march in the afternoon, but were caught in a
violent storm. We could see no distance ahead of us. We could not have
halted and pitched our camp; we could not have found any shelter. To
have halted would have meant frozen limbs. There was nothing to do but
to face the storm and make what headway we could. As soon as the weather
had abated, we found our way down to the river, and halted in a nook
sheltered by the steep banks.
We all felt convinced that with so much grass and water people must be
at hand. It was therefore arranged that Malcolm and Esau should go on
ahead with knapsacks, rifles, and a good supply of meat, while I should
follow on as quickly as I could with the other three men and the three
mules, and still keep up the surveying. All set to work to make a big
fire for cooking a large supply of wild donkey flesh to take on their
journey. We were all busy with the preparations, and full of hopes for
the venture of the morrow. It was arranged that the two adventurers
should have a substantial breakfast before starting. Disappointment on
this occasion was in store for us. Rain and sleet greeted us at dawn,
and fell incessantly till midday. At that hour we fastened on the two
knapsacks, and Malcolm and Esau set forth in search of people. We had
arranged that both parties should keep on the north side of the river,
so that there could be no danger of our losing one another.
As soon as these two had gone, I and the remainder struck camp, and made
preparations to march too. Again rain began to fall even heavier than
before, and to add to our troubles, one of the three mules refused to
be caught and loaded. Two whole hours did we waste in this soaking rain
in our endeavours to catch this most obstinate, aggravating, yet clever
mule. Then I felt that, as the day was drawing to a close, our wisest
plan was to leave the animal victorious, and own ourselves beaten. I
therefore gave orders to unload and pitch the camp again. Every one
and everything was wet through, and just as we had fixed up our little
shelter, Malcolm and Esau returned. The weather was altogether too
intolerant, and they, like ourselves, had on this day to give in to the
inevitable. We both agreed that the day was not quite good enough to
start on. All we could do was to lie down and endeavour to keep warm,
an impossibility, for everything was damp. We reaped some comfort in
conjuring up thoughts of other snug places where all was warmth and
sunshine.
After dark, as the rain had nearly ceased, we both went to the men's
tent, where they had managed to keep themselves warmer than we had by
means of a fire. Certainly the smoke was blinding, but what did that
matter? We brought with us our store of brandy, and were soon cheerful
under its influence with hot water. We talked to the men of boats and
trains, of towns and other countries, so that they might know what
sights were awaiting them as soon we had crossed this uninhabited land.
A dull, quiet morning succeeded this stormy weather. The two men again
set forth, while I followed with the rest. As we proceeded we discovered
we had marched into a _cul de sac_. On our right hand our road was
blocked by the river, now increased to double its size. In front of us
stretched a fine fresh-water lake, while on our left an arm of this
lake lay, covering a distance of some miles to our rear. There was,
under these circumstances, no alternative left. I should either have
to cross this arm or march back all the way round it. The first plan I
attempted, but to no purpose, for the soil of the lake was too soft. I
had, therefore, to begin a retrograde march. I felt lucky that the mules
had not been lost altogether in the arm of the lake, as seemed probable
at one time, so was less bitter against having to march in a westerly
direction. Everywhere on the banks of this lake grew magnificent green
grass, and there were signs of many yak. By the edges of this shallow
freshwater lay innumerable bones and scores of very fine heads and
skeletons of dead yak. It seemed as though they all came to die by the
shore of this wonderful lake.
I halted the little party in a garden of vegetables, and having made
a meal off the last piece of the wild donkey, set out in search of
game, but only bagged a couple of fat hares. About here I noticed
large carrion birds, generally a sign that people are living in the
neighbourhood. Enjoying the lake, too, were a multitude of various white
birds, mostly in the middle of it.
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.
The next day we left the river, hitting it off again before halting.
During the night the mules once more strayed, and prevented us from
marching the following morning. Perhaps they had been taking shelter
from another storm that had visited us. As the morning was fine we were
not in the best frame of mind at having to wait till they were found.
Yet we had plenty to do in writing, and mapping, and cleaning all our
guns, etc. As we marched off in the afternoon, I was ahead carrying my
shot-gun, and suddenly came close upon a goa. Although he was stung with
No. 2 shot, he unfortunately managed to escape into the grassy hills.
That evening another storm broke over us, just as we were flattering
ourselves that we had escaped.
A yak probably carries his heart very low, for most of those which were
shot received the bullet just behind the shoulder, yet on opening the
dead body, we never found any wound inflicted on the heart itself. We
were glad that the yak was provided with such internal arrangements, for
the heart was the tit-bit of the animal. It was so tender that it could
always be eaten directly after death. The kidneys were excellent, the
liver was fair, and the tongue as tough and as hard as wood, according
to our way of curing it. The probability is that, with proper means, the
tongue would have been the most toothsome bit of any. The flesh itself
was, as a rule, tough, even after several days' keeping, and was never
as tender as the flesh of the kyang, but although close-grained, it was
very sound, nutritious meat.
The choicest part of the wild donkey was its heart. I fancy the flesh of
this animal, when we had stored it up for several days, had more flavour
to it, a flavour, too, which was peculiar to the animal itself. As for
antelope and goa, every particle of flesh was juicy and tender, and was
always eagerly devoured by us all.
[Illustration: A DEAD ANTELOPE.]
On the 29th August, when we vowed our three mules were worth their
weight in gold, for with heavy loads they plodded most pluckily through
the sodden soil, and over nasty, deep, stony nullahs, I happened to be
walking on higher ground along the side of hills. I had my shot-gun and
was after hares, for we were all very fond of them. Quite by chance I
came upon the first sign of man's work. I had found a māné. A māné is a
heap of stones, consisting of only a few or of thousands, upon which are
inscribed sacred sayings. They are common all over the country, wherever
Tibetans live. This particular māné consisted of three stones placed
edgeways in the ground, and forming three sides of a square. Resting
on these was a fourth stone, and they all bore inscriptions. This was
a great find, and I shouted and waved to Malcolm and the men below, two
of whom were soon eagerly making their way towards me to learn the news.
All were buoyed up with hope of soon meeting people, and when we halted
after our first march, all were full of suggestions and expectations,
and looked forward to once more getting some flour, mutton, salt, sugar,
and butter. In two days at the most we calculated nomads would be found.
On one green hill we could see hundreds upon hundreds of yak grazing;
there was, I believe, more yak visible than hill. We were particularly
partial to these animals, for the reason already given on a previous
page. The fat of the yak was so precious to us that we used to boil down
every ounce of it, and put it into our old cocoa tins. These cakes of
yak's fat were very much appreciated by all. We used to knock off bits
of it and eat it as if it were Everton toffy.
We found that to cross the river would have been hazardous, but we
discovered that, after winding round to the left, it made a sharp
bend to the right again, and at this point rose up precipitous cliffs,
forming the basis of high hills. We should, therefore, either have to
go round or over these hills. The former would have taken days, and
probably have led us out of our depth altogether. In such a situation
we had no choice, and commenced to climb them.
In the midst of our difficulty, another of those violent storms fell
on us, accompanied with hail, that was blown painfully against man and
beast. It was impossible to struggle on against such adversity—a stiff
ascent and a blinding storm. Even this came to an end, when we slowly
breasted the hill again. By nightfall we had come out victorious; we had
descended again the other side, and had encamped close to the river. We
knew, though, that we were not sufficiently strong to overcome many more
obstacles such as we had just surmounted. A wet morning of mist and rain
followed this event. When we were able, we marched off again along the
banks of the river till we found it was joined by another river coming
from the north. This we had to cross with care.
On the other side, some distance off, I saw a yak, and set out ahead to
shoot it. I wounded him grievously, and feeling certain that he would
not go very far, I waited for the caravan to arrive, so that a man could
come after me to bring along some meat. He gave me a longer chase than
I had anticipated, but the last bullet told, when he rolled over on his
back and kicked violently with all fours in his final struggles. He was
a very fine fellow, as the man with me remarked, "_Pahar ke muafic_"
(like a mountain), and his horns were over three feet long.
Laden with meat, I walked on in search of our camp, and was beginning
to get a little uneasy at not having seen any signs of which way they
had gone, for the sun was setting, when two very faint shots announced
their whereabouts. That night we fared sumptuously, for Malcolm too had
slain a yak near camp, as he thought it quite possible that the one I
had gone after might have escaped altogether, which would have meant no
supper.
We were aroused early by moans from Lassoo. We found him lying on his
back and groaning, and argued that he must have been suffering from
indigestion. We had been anxious to make an early start, but Lassoo's
sickness and a thick, wetting mist quickly dispelled this wish. By
midday Lassoo was relieved by administering warm flannel and Cockle's
pills, and the mist, too, by the cheering sun. On the march I shot a
goa with my shot-gun. He was very tame, never attempting to run away
more than twenty yards from me. Later on two yak came charging down upon
our caravan, within fifteen yards. Had they come much nearer we should
have had to shoot them in self defence; yet we had no wish to, for we
had abundance of meat for the time being, as much as we could manage to
carry.
[Illustration: AN ENORMOUS YAK.]
Although Colonel Prjevalsky writes that "wild yak shooting is as
dangerous as it is exciting, for a wounded beast, especially an old
bull, will often attack the pursuer," yet, personally speaking, I never
found a yak attempt to charge, wounded or not, and consider there to be
absolutely no more danger in shooting a yak than an antelope.
Towards evening, when we were thinking of calling a halt, we found
another important river running in from the north, and which we should
have to cross. We elected to do so that same evening, for we doubted
being able to get the men to face the icy water the first thing in the
morning. Both Lassoo and Shukr Ali were sick, so we only had Shahzad
Mir and Esau to help us.
In first attempting to find a crossing, the current carried me off my
legs, for the water was waist deep at this spot. By making more trials
we found we could manage higher up the river, by crossing in a diagonal
direction with the current. Here the river was twenty-five yards
across, with the water up to the thighs, and the bed was uneven with
big boulders.
These operations took some time, for, fearing accidents, we had to
make double journeys. Worst of all was the cold north wind, that blew
without pity. It was chilly work, to say the least of it, and when all
had reached the green turf on the other bank, we all felt we could never
have crossed that river again, not even for a sack of sovereigns!