THE RETURN.
4th September. There was a great to-do with the horses, which were
anything but disposed to resign the life of ease and good cheer
which they had recently been enjoying: they careered about in every
direction, Murad's being the most intractable. I left the Bhooties in
hot pursuit, and, starting ahead, breakfasted at our first bivouac, and
halted for the night at our second. While waiting the arrival of the
baggage, Subhan came and reported a 'jamwar' present. I supposed it
was an animal, of course; but it was a bird of the curlew kind, glossy
black. I took the Whitworth, and, retiring to about eighty yards,
squatted down, fired, and the bird subsided on its tracks, shot exactly
through the middle. Subhan rushed up, and performed 'hallal,' and
accepted the bird joyfully, as they had had no flesh for many days. The
things came up in good time, horses fresh and strong.
5th September. We continued our journey up the valley, the route
due east, for some ten miles, with occasional patches of grass and
bushes of considerable extent; then turned up a defile to the right
(southerly), which leads out of this valley, and gives us a passage
through the mountains to Waad Jilgo, where we meet and pursue our
former route. Neither Moosa nor Abdool have been this road, so all is
conjecture as to distance and quality. I believe it will prove a march
longer.
After ascending a couple of miles or so, we halted in a glen affording
grass, wood, and water, essentials for a camp not always forthcoming
in this desolate region. The baggage arrived in due time. I admired
two ghoonts of Murad's, and accepted his offer to ride one to-morrow.
Abdoolah telling us that a sandagur had told him the distance to Waad
Jilgo this way was but three marches, I determined to try and reach
there to-morrow. It will be a great thing, if we are able to get from
this place to another yielding grass, without a halt in a complete
desert as on the other road.
6th September. We have severe frosts every night now, and the mountains
are coated with snow from summit to base, from recent falls. This
looks like the beginning of winter here, and, if so, summer must be
short indeed, of but a few days' duration; and it is well I did not
fulfil my project of entering the Yarkand country, for twelve days
may make a serious difference in these mountain regions. The scenery
is magnificent in its canopy of snow which removes the unpleasant
impression created by the universal sterility, the pure mantle of snow
leaving ample scope to the imagination. All around was exceedingly
beautiful in the early doubtful lights.
I set off, attended as usual by the shikarries and one coolie with
breakfast, Abdool leading Murad's ghoont. A stiff climb at once awaited
us; then down into a narrow rocky ravine, up which we scrambled, and
became aware we were off the horse-track, having been misled by a yâk
path. Much delay took place ere we hit off the track. Then we had a
gradual ascent of some six miles over a barren stony tract, a nullah on
our left hand. The morning, hitherto sparkling and fresh, now became
overcast, and a violent storm of sleet assailed us. I know nothing
more miserable in travelling, than riding at a foot's pace, your horse
stumbling at every other step or so, and a chilling blast cutting you
to pieces, with its horrid accompaniment of stinging sleet and hail.
The wind, which had been behind, now veered round and blew direct in
our faces, as we descended into a desert plain of boundless extent.
My borrowed nag's pace was so far from agreeable that I dismounted,
and trudged doggedly on, head down. Gaining a little warmth, I got on
better as the storm abated; but that coming on again with increased
bitterness, I at last pulled up, and sat down with my back to it. After
a time, I again trudged on. How this 'maidan' seemed interminable! But
at length we came to a deep gorge with a stream running down it. It was
now about one o'clock; and, but for the idea I entertained that we must
be getting near Waad Jilgo, I had stopped here. Being far ahead of the
riding trio, I was forced to follow my own ideas, and pressed onwards.
Another interminable plain presenting itself, on, on I trudged, without
any seeming alteration in its extent, until half-past three, when the
shikarries overtook me with the ghoont, thinking I must be tired. I did
mount, and rode on some six miles. There was now a ridge of low hills
in front of us, and a range of higher ones immediately on our left. I
hoped we might find water at any rate on the other side, intending to
stop at the first place where was water. We had come a long distance,
and there was hardly a chance of the coolies coming up. Abdool, being
questioned, could give no information about the localities, nor could
we understand his gibberish.
We reached the hills in front, and looked into a low flat, where was
every appearance of a watercourse, for which we made, but found it
dry. A violent snow-storm now setting in, and, having no knowledge of
what was before us--all our people and things miles behind--I thought
it best to halt here. Bad as this choice was, there was something
in favour of it; a quantity of roots for fuel were at hand; so here
we dismounted, tied our horses together, and, collecting roots--we
had some sticks with us--with some little trouble we got up a smoky
dull fire, round which we sat shivering, our prospects for the night
decidedly comfortless.
The snow came thicker and thicker; there would be drink for man, if not
for beast. Murad and a haji arrived, and joined our group, and at dusk
the trusty Buddoo, with a horse carrying my bed, tent, &c., so I was
all right. I had also a cake and bacon remaining from my breakfast. My
tent erected, I turned into bed, the better to shield myself from the
severe cold. I could not eat.
Buddoo said that the other servants and baggage were far behind; so
the probability was, what with the night and snow, that they would
not be able to find the path or, therefore, camp. I had no fear for
them; they had everything but water with them. But I felt deep anxiety
for the poor coolies, with nothing but their loads; what would become
of them? I felt truly miserable. I told Buddoo, that he and my other
two servants, when they might arrive, should shelter themselves in my
tent, there being just room for them to huddle themselves up on the
floor, and the closer the better. Poor Buddoo was extremely thankful;
remarking that the snow descended thicker than ever, and the cold was
intense, he closed the entrance, and left me to my gloomy reflections.
Sleep was beyond my reach: fretting and restless, I lay listening to
outward sounds. Subhan brought the guns, and had no comfort to offer,
on my questioning him, but that those of the party here would not die,
as they had fire; for the others, the coolies, there was much danger.
As he talked, a loud whistle came down the wind, some of the party
approaching; and, ere long, I heard with delight the strong cheery
tones of Abdoolah who, soon arriving, was bustling here and there,
giving directions, and apparently making light of the difficulties that
beset us.
All with the horses had arrived safe; but of the coolies there were no
tidings. There was strong reason to hope, however, that they would find
shelter with the haji kafila, also on the road. The servants' shuldary
was with them, so I sent an invitation to the shikarries to put up in
mine; they, however, preferred a screen they had contrived, and a good
fire. My mind to a great extent relieved, I tried to sleep, but the
intense cold, in spite of all the clothes I could heap on, rendered my
rest troubled and broken.
7th September. I heard the people quite merry and laughing in the
morning. At the appearance of sunshine I turned out, and went to
the fire, where I found all in good humour, though recalling bitter
experiences of the past night. Snow, of course, lay thick all around.
No tidings of the coolies. Abdoolah busied himself melting snow in the
kettle to give me some tea (a tedious process, resulting in a smoky
slop, for which, however, I was thankful), accompanied by the cake of
yesterday. The poor horses stood coupled together, with heads drooping,
and teeth grinding. I had ordered them each two seers of corn at night,
and gave them one now. Some of them, by-the-bye, had augmented the
influences disturbing my night's rest, by coming close to my tent, and
grinding their hungry jaws, and uttering uncouth sounds, expressive of
distress and suffering, as though to reproach me as the author of them.
I did all I could for the poor things.
It was supposed that we were distant from Waad Jilgo some two coss; so
a move on was resolved, as water must be had, and the coolies might
follow on. The sepoy was despatched to see after them. Hoping to kill
an antelope or two, we hunters went on ahead, I as usual on foot. The
exhilarating influences of the fresh sharp air, the sparkling snow, and
surrounding, many-tinted, diverse-featured mountains and hills, soon
dispelled all my gloom, and I trudged cheerily along, enjoying many a
pleasant fancy and reflection. But we had short reckoned our distance.
It was at least ten miles to the first water and grass; not the spot
we had previously stopped at--a couple of miles short of that; but as
the grass was abundant, there was every inducement to rest here, which
we did. When the breakfast coolie arrived at twelve o'clock, I found
that Abdoolah had put me up nothing, and I was now extremely hungry,
having had very short allowance of late. The shikarries, however, soon
cooked me a couple of cakes, and, Abdoolah and baggage arriving soon
after, I started off with Subhan to try for antelope. We went a long
way round, and saw numbers, but could not get near one, and came back,
disappointed and weary.
As we approached camp we saw sheep and goats nearing, a good sign; and
I was told that the coolies were all right, except being hungry and
thirsty, and were coming on. They did not arrive, however, till dusk,
and then two were stated to have given in, and were remaining far
behind, helpless. With some trouble and personal superintendence, I
got off two Bhooties with a supply of water for them. The coolies had,
as was supposed, stopped at the haji camp, and so were as well off as
if they had reached ours, but that they assert that they could get no
food from the hajis, which, however, I do not believe.
8th September. The night was bitterly cold. I could not sleep;
experienced much oppression of chest, and could not contrive to keep my
feet warm, all I could do--three pair of worsted socks on, drawers and
trowsers, double blanket, felt namba, and flannel jacket and mackintosh
over that, on the foot of the bed. In the night I got flannel trowsers,
and wrapped my feet in them, but produced no warmth. The frost was
very sharp, the stream turned to ice. The sun, however, was bright
and cheery, and under its genial influence all were in good spirits.
After breakfast we hunters started in advance. We soon saw a herd of
antelope. But they also saw us, when we reached a low hill, behind
which they slowly retired. I went after them with Subhan, and opened
them about three hundred yards off. They soon increased that to four
hundred, when some five or six being grouped together, I took a shot
at them with Whitworth, and the bolt only just cleared their backs by
an inch or so. Off they scudded, and I fired the Enfield, both balls
seemingly falling right amidst them, but stopping none.
We crossed the plain where, on coming, we were so fortunate, bucks
jumping up under our very noses. Now we just caught a glimpse of some
in the distance, which were off at once. A piercing blast, blowing
off the snowy Karakorum, met us in the teeth, cutting us through and
through. I never felt anything like it. It seemed to enter my eyes, and
wither my brain. My nose and lips were in a terrible state. Moving on,
head down, I was aroused by Subhan's signal, and saw in front, in a
watercourse we were about to descend, five antelope apparently asleep.
I dismounted, and strove to get at them; but, the ground offering no
covert, no nullah, they soon saw us, and away they sped into space. I
now walked on, and descended into the wide interminable shingle plain,
stretching from the base of the Karakorum. On turning an angle, I saw
something move. It was a miserable horse left here to linger out its
last moments in agonies. Two days, I suppose, it must have lingered,
deserted by the unfeeling owner, a Bokhara man, who had passed us at
Sugheit. He must have suffered heavy loss, as we have already passed
eight or nine of his dead horses. The throats of the others had been
mercifully cut. I put this poor animal to rest with a bullet in his
brain.
Hence, on to our former bleak and dreary camp ground, the wind if
possible more keen as we neared its primary source. I was glad to
dismount, and wrap my head in a blanket, turning my back to this
inhospitable blast. Soon up came Buddoo, the trusty, ever-cheerful,
quiet Buddoo, and not very long after, the invaluable, energetic
Abdoolah; and all the coolies came in by dusk. I have resolved, in
consequence of our very limited quantity of rations, to make a short
march to-morrow, though Sunday, to a place in the middle of the
Karakorum gorge, where I hope to find a little sprinkling of grass, as
we saw many antelope there, on coming through. This will give us an
easy march over the pass to a spot beyond the wretched charnel-house,
where we camped last time, and lost our first horse--offering the
important advantage of a bite or two of grass, and, I think, fuel.
I ordered a sheep to be killed, intending to regale my servants and
shikarries with flesh, the better to enable them to stand the cold--an
addition to their simple farinaceous diet most acceptable. Resorting
to every possible precaution to promote warmth, I put on three flannel
shirts, one amazingly thick, drawers, flannel trowsers, flannel coat,
nightcap tied on by a voluminous merino neckcloth also encircling my
throat, and on my feet, my principal place of suffering, three pair
of woollen socks, then over all a woollen gun-cover, in which my feet
are inserted, then the long ends folded round and secured. Thus clad,
with double blanket, felt ditto, mackintosh, and warm choga enveloping
me, I may surely hope for enough of caloric for comfort and repose;
though that terrible wind is howling its menaces, and the frost set
in hard. I wish I was safe in the Lobrah valley. Well, well, a few
days--say seven--and we shall (please God) be at Chanloong; formerly,
how despicable a place! now, how ardently longed for!
9th September. Sunday. A very indifferent night; my feet numbed and
chill, in spite of all my manifold coverings; my lungs much oppressed,
and continually calling me to consciousness by a sense of impending
suffocation. On the sun's rays being distinctly recognised by the
growing transparency of my tent, I emerged from my many wrappers. The
outer atmosphere was intensely severe; ice everywhere it was possible;
and a wind that found its way to one's marrow. My tent had been well
secured at foot to exclude this assailant, as also, by-the-bye, the
poor goats, which, unhappy sufferers, made several efforts to repeat
their invasion of Friday night, when two of them established themselves
under my bed, driven to this bold intrusion by the severe cold, and
little Sara, as though in appreciation of their sufferings, and
compassionating them, offered no opposition. Nor should I have taken
measures to exclude them, poor things! but that they kept me awake by
their constant restlessness and unusual noises.
I attempted to be, and to look, cheerful--on the Mark Tapley principle.
My attendants looked very black and pinched. No wonder; there is some
difference between this temperature and that of their fervid plains.
At breakfast Abdoolah told me, that the party generally would prefer
halting here to-day, as they needed rest. The coolies wanted to mend
their boots, and promised to go through to the halt I had designed
to-morrow. He observed, too, that the flour was all but out, and as
the Yarkand kafila would come up to-day, we could indent upon them for
their promised contribution. I had no objection at all to remaining;
on the contrary, it would enable me to maintain my Sunday practice,
proposed to be interrupted only on necessity.
I passed the day within, reading and writing; received report of
the death of a horse, knocked up yesterday, one with a dreadful
sore back, which I had remarked, and predicted its certain death.
The Bhooties in attendance on the horses cannot be induced to look
after them, or attempt to remedy the effects of the saddle-galls,
by mending or altering, or applications of any sort. The loss will
be theirs and their employers', as I have explained to them, with
repeated injunctions to look after the animals; but all in vain. The
Yarkandies came up in the afternoon. Abdoolah went to beg, and only
succeeded in obtaining twenty-six seers of atta. I was angry with him
for having either deceived me as to the quantity of flour in hand, on
my making particular enquiries on Monday, or for having exceeded the
proportion of issues he had then told me was necessary daily, having
led me to expect that we had ten days' supply, when here on the sixth
we were consuming the last day's rations. He made some unintelligible
explanations of having omitted in his estimate some of the Bhooties
who had hitherto subsisted on their own provision; but all this should
have been correctly ascertained. I suspect that Abdoolah, in his
anxiety to prevent my prosecuting my intended inroad into the Yarkand
territory, rather exaggerated our resources, or under-reckoned our
wants knowingly--a very grave fault in our circumstances. But we have
the provisions, written and sent for, to hope and expect. Kamal is a
thoroughly trustworthy messenger, and will be probably fallen in with
at Bursey or Moorgaby.
The thermometer this morning at 7 A.M. was six degrees below
freezing in my tent.
10th September. While yet dark, poor shivering Buddoo came in to take
out bullock-trunk and chair for the coolies, now ready to start. Oh!
how cold the rush of external air! The tent again closed, I enjoyed
a sort of sense of comfort by comparison, and waited till the first
appearance of dawn; then speedily got ready, and, muffled up, moved
off. All the streams, though rapid, were frozen over thickly. I tramped
on as fast as the rough shingle and a pair of new ammunition-boots, of
great strength and corresponding hardness and stiffness, allowed me. A
gentle ascent of some eight miles, I think, had to be surmounted ere
we reached the actual pass of the Karakorum, and this up a valley or
river-way. Having gained partial warmth after two hours' walk, and my
boots chafing, I mounted, and took Sara before me. But, though the sun
was now illuming this valley, the frost did not yield, and my moustache
and beard were firmly united in a mass of icicles from my congealing
breath, so that it was inconvenient (to use no stronger term) to open
my mouth, as it needed the parting or extraction of some hairs to
effect. With every contrivance to wrap them up, and with two pair of
woollen gloves--one, certainly, all rents--my hands became so painful
I could no longer keep poor little Sara under my cloak before me, so
set him down; and, soon after, we made a turn to the left, opening the
pass, from the snowy peaks of which came rushing an icy blast that
quite curdled my blood. My eyes ached, my brain seemed congealed, and a
pain in my back and side, and every now and then a gasping for breath,
completed my misery. I was soon obliged to dismount, in spite of sore
feet, to endeavour to restore the circulation by walking as rapidly as
possible. But the difficulty of breathing was terrible. On I struggled,
until a bend to the right into a narrow ravine presented itself, whose
lofty banks gave some promise of shelter from this killing blast. For
this I hastened; and, finding a little nook in a bank, down I threw
myself, lifting my face to the sun, and so sought, and soon found,
partial relief.
The shikarries came up, and we were all, I should think, half an hour
before attempting a remark. Then, having thawed a little, we could find
an objurgation or two against the country and climate. My breakfast
bundle unfolded displayed milk frozen in bottle to a lump--tea, ditto.
This was enveloped in a thick blanket, and carried on a man's shoulder.
It was soon liquidized in the sun. I remained an hour or so basking:
then, the worst over, away and up over the pass, and down, down into
the valley beyond, where the temperature under the sun's increased
power was tolerable. We passed the former halting-place, Pulu, and,
after resting an hour, continued our course to Dupsang, where we chose
our camp on an extensive plain, with a scanty patch or two of grass.
The effects came up late, coolies later; but all got in. I determined
to start the coolies very early, and leave, myself and mounted party,
at 8.30, after breakfast, to give the horses more time to get a bite
of grass.
11th September. On turning out I found a very severe frost, as I had
expected from my experience within. Abdoolah proposed to give me an
omelet for breakfast, but produced chops instead, explaining that the
eggs were frozen into stones, and he had hard work to separate the meat.
We had to cross the elevated table-land, before described, now just
covered with a thin layer of snow. A bitter wind blew in our teeth,
putting all enjoyment of the scenery, or any pleasing train of
meditation, out of the question. All was silent endurance, grinning
discomfort. Yet I did give a glance, and sentiment or so of admiration,
to some magnificent forms of mountains in their pure and brilliant garb
of snow. But I was glad to be rid of their frozen features, and descend
into a narrow ravine, where, screened from the wind, and cheered by
the sun, my temperature and temper regained their customary tone.
Here we met a party conveying goods of Bella Shah's--dyed leather--to
Yarkand; and one of them was the unfortunate owner of the horses
with me, a merchant who had been long in prison at Leh, and recently
released. On gaining freedom, he, of course, looked for his horses,
and was very glad to hear that they had been engaged for me. He now
collected his clothes, and turned back with my party, much questioning
and answering going on between him and the shikarries; he had read my
first note to the kardar at Panamik for supplies, and had pointed out
to that individual the necessity of implicit compliance; had met Kamal
on the hill over Chanloong, now six days back. This was satisfactory.
We need now have no apprehensions, but of a day's scarcity--perhaps,
a half ration. We continued on, far beyond our original halt, and
finally pulled up on the shingle, near a small thread of a stream which
was lost in the shingle. When we previously ascended, this water-bed
was intersected in every direction by rapid streams: now water was
difficult to find. The traps arrived late, and I did not enter my tent
till dark. There was a perceptible difference in the atmosphere, though
still frosty.
12th September. I intended to start the whole party early, in order
to bring the horses to the grass at Moorgaby, as soon as possible,
but found them all astray, having wandered away in search of grass
during the night. I could not wait in the cold, so started, my horse at
hand following as usual. I strode away best pace, and passed coolies
and Murad's party, and was deep in thought, when a rattling of earth
aroused my attention, and looking up, there were some thirty nâpu close
by me, on the hill-side on my right hand, not above fifty yards off,
all of a heap. They were leisurely moving upwards, a capital shot. No
shikarry, no gun near, that wretched Mooktoo having lagged far behind.
Abdool coming on, driving my horse before him, I made frantic gestures
to him to stop; but, head down, eyes on the ground, not heeding, in
stupid absorption, on he came, nor could I gain his attention, till I
picked up a stone and threw it at his head. Then he ducked, and halted,
and began to talk. Mooktoo, awake to the circumstances, now came
running up, rifle in case; fumbled at that, then to cap--his fingers so
numbed, I suppose, he bungled sadly. The animals were now far up the
mountain. I got the rifle, and pulling trigger, no effects--the cap
bad. At last I got off both barrels, but the objects were too far off
for this weapon--a polygroove.
We arrived at a point where the path, quitting the river-bed, ascended
the rugged mountain-side to a great height, and re-descended. There
being now no water, I thought we might go straight on, but Abdool would
not hear of the horse going. He said, "man might go, but no horse
could;" so Mooktoo and I, followed by Lussoo, breakfast-bearer, entered
the defile which delighted us at first by its easy, accessible ingress.
We soon, however, learned to respect Abdool's opinion, at which and
his experience we had been scoffing. We found ourselves entangled in a
confusion of rocks which at last quite blocked up the passage. There
was nothing for it, then, but to retrace our steps, or climb the steep
on either side. I set to work at one point, Mooktoo at another. Making
slow progress, and slipping back often--for I had no staff to support
me, and my boots were ill fitted for climbing--I gained the ledge with
much exertion, and, after clambering along some hundred yards, found
I must re-descend into the bed of the torrent, all further progress
being cut off by a yawning precipice. Nerving myself for the attempt, I
succeeded in getting down, showers of loose stones accompanying me. I
could not pause for observation, but fixing my eyes on certain points
apparently firm I dashed at them, and off again before my weight had
detached them, leaving them to fall with awful resounding crashes
into the depths below. I got down all right, not a little pleased
and relieved thereat, and found the way now practicable. Looking up,
there were Mooktoo and Lussoo craning over the chasm. I hailed them
to try another place, and then went on, and heard stones and rocks
thundering down the steep. Reaching the point where Abdool and horse
should cross, they were not yet in sight, but soon appeared, and in due
time joined me. Half an hour had elapsed since I left the other two
in difficulties, and, becoming alarmed, I despatched Abdool to look
after them; who after ten minutes or so reappeared, abusing them and
Cashmiries in general as good for nothing. They were close at hand, and
came up, Subhan and Phuttoo also. They had to extricate Lussoo who,
terror-stricken, had stuck half-way down the steep.
Here I breakfasted, and then went on to Moorgaby. No Kamal: but an
encampment--some of the people, and horses, and goods of the Bokhara
man. Horses lay dead around; and a man was engaged in skinning and
cutting up one for meat. My people did not make their appearance till
six or seven hours after me.
13th September. A cold frosty morning. I stepped out smartly for a
couple of hours, and then mounted, and found the Bokhara man encamped,
who to enquiries said that he had lost six horses, and the others were
so feeble that he must leave his goods behind, and take them on to
Lobrah to recover their condition. I found the torrent, from wading
and crossing which so many times, when coming, I had suffered such
agonies of cold, now a narrow gentle stream, much to my satisfaction.
On nearing Sassar a man with a loaded ass appeared, who turned out to
be one of the party come with my supplies: the others were at Sassar.
Kamal remained at Panamik, footsore. We found the river at Sassar, so
formidable when last crossed, now easily forded in any place. Men,
donkeys, and loads there: others encamped with yâks designed for hire
by merchants whose horses might knock up.
Subhan rummaged out a sheepskin bag containing some dozen letters and
heaps of papers for me. I greedily seized and ran through the former.
Good news from home--all well, thank God! Excellent accounts of the
corps at Amritsir; no casualties from the date of my leaving to the
20th July. The Baboo, writing the 20th ult., makes no allusion to the
receipt of my packet from Leh, or from Diskit. This is perplexing and
serious. If my letters, application for extension of leave, &c., have
miscarried, I shall be in a considerable fix. He says, however, that he
had previously despatched these letters by a coolie who, after twelve
days' absence, returned, saying that he was taken ill on the road.
Perhaps, in his letter first sent he mentioned the receipt of those
packets, and forgot to note the same in his second. I hope so; but must
suffer suspense and anxiety till my arrival at Leh.
14th September. Up betimes for the arduous passage of the Sassar,
which I quite dreaded, so frightfully rough and fatiguing is it,
without a redeeming feature. The coolies had preceded us, so we had
no idea of meeting with shikar up the valley; but as I strode ahead,
Subhan signalled me, and I at once saw a large flock of nâpu feeding
in tranquillity on the steep hill-side on my right hand. They might
have been three hundred yards off. I took the Whitworth from Phuttoo,
and, followed by Subhan with the Enfield, moved gently up the hill,
straight for the animals, there being no other course. Luckily the
wind was down. I got to a big stone about a hundred and fifty yards
from the flock, scattered feeding a few yards apart, and was obliged
to wait some seconds for breath and composure. The animals were quite
unconscious of our neighbourhood. At last, taking the opportunity of
two coming together, one of which seemed to me the largest there, and
to have horns, I aimed. It was most difficult to aim surely and with
nicety, owing to the grey light of morning, the grey colour of the
animals, and that of the ground, rendering the object very indistinct.
Whispering this to Subhan, I let drive, and down rolled one of the
animals; when, to my infinite astonishment, off dashed little Sara at
speed, whose presence I was not aware of. He had, however, followed
silently my every movement. He flew straight at the wounded animal,
and seized it as it struggled. I called him to come back: but in vain.
So, taking the double rifle, I looked for another shot, and fired at
two passing nâpu, I believe without effect, but the ball seeming to go
through one.
And now ensued an exciting and ludicrous scene. The wounded nâpu, an
animal as large as a fallow doe, partially recovered the blow, and,
shaking off the worrying Sara violently, came with irregular bounds
rapidly down the hill, pursued frantically by the gallant little dog
close at its haunches. I raised the rifle. Subhan adjured me not to
fire, lest I should injure the dog. But fearing that the animal,
apparently yet vigorous, might escape, I aimed well forward, and over
it rolled. Sara was at its head immediately, and seized it by the ear,
when a desperate struggle took place. The animal bounded into the
air; but the tenacious little rascal kept his hold firm. Down they
came, the dog undermost, never relaxing but to get a better grip. And
thus the contest continued, until I got hold of the hind legs of the
violently-struggling creature, and Subhan the head. Then Sara, coming
to my aid, fixed his teeth in the haunch, and there held on, never
yielding till life was extinct. His excitement then subsided, and he
lay down panting, and looking as if really ashamed of his exploits.
Cheered by this incident, we pursued our way which was yet terribly
trying. However, the passage was in time accomplished, and after
reposing and refreshing for a couple of hours or so, during which time
Buddoo and tent passed us, and the other servants came up, we went on
and bivouacked on the hill above the Bhoot goatherds' encampment, a
spot producing a fair supply of grass. At Abdoolah's suggestion I had
engaged three of the yâks to relieve my tottering horses and carry the
baggage, the horses coming on unloaded, by which plan I hope to save
their lives.
We intend to go through to Chanloong to-morrow--a stiff journey, with
the tremendous mountain to get over, which, however, is not so bad from
this side. We are all elated at the near prospects of a better land
and a better climate than we have recently sojourned in. I hear a deal
of good-natured banter going on around, and feel very 'koosh' myself,
and have been congratulating everybody upon our having bid an eternal
farewell to the Karakorum and Sassar horrors.
The Bokhara man sent for some corn. He lost three horses yesterday. Two
or three of mine look as though they would not survive, poor wretches!
in spite of being freed from their burdens.
15th September. Still bitterly cold, my camp being close to enormous
glaciers, in addition to the snow on the mountains. I led off at
a round pace down to the shepherds' huts, and saw donkeys there
loaded, which turned out to be an additional supply convoyed by the
faithful Kamal who had been detained by a sore foot. I renewed the
well-remembered horrors of this vale of stones and bones, to the
latter of which there were now many additions. The air breathed on the
mountain-side was quite pestiferous from the many rotting carcases.
It was a terrible long drag up. Having reached the top, I ordered
a general dismount, or Phuttoo and Mooktoo would have assuredly
bestridden their poor jaded beasts all the way down. We stopped a
few minutes at a fine clear spring to refresh; and then on to the
willow groves of Chanloong. The descent occupied about an hour and a
half, best pace. How delightful and refreshing appeared the struggling
willows of this scrubby piece of cultivation! Selecting the most
umbrageous, I threw myself under it, and experienced such delicious
sensations as the privations I had recently undergone could alone have
procured me. Bees and insects in numbers were buzzing and humming
about, and the freshness of vivid vegetation was strongly perceptible
in the atmosphere. Excepting the valley of Sugheit, the air of which
was fine and agreeable, that I have been breathing and exposed to may
well be likened to a perpetual east wind, the rawest and most intense
experienced in March in England. I revelled in the pleasant change,
lying down in the shade, giving the reins to memory and imagination,
until gentle slumber stole over me.
My attendants, baggage, and cattle, except one horse, came in. The
absent animal was obliged to be deserted on the mountain summit. I
ordered a man with corn to be sent up to make a last effort to save
him. How delighted all the poor fellows were to get down!
I eat my dinner again 'al fresco,' and sat out as long as the light
enabled me to read, occasionally casting a glance over the scenery,
always grand though savage, and in the evening-subdued light endued
with softer beauties: then turned in anticipating a good night's rest.
16th September. I did enjoy an untroubled night of calm repose, such as
I have not experienced since I left Sugheit; no violent palpitations
and struggles for respiration, no biting wind penetrating my every
covering, and--oh! satisfaction indescribable--warm feet.
I rose early, the air cool and fresh, and just sauntered about among
the straggling bushes, feeling truly sensible, I trust, of the mercies
and blessings vouchsafed me. So far I had returned safe and sound. I
now look forward with pleasure to my return to my duties and usual
avocations. I passed a pleasant, cheerful day; and retired in suitable
mood again to enjoy a night of delicious, healthy sleep.