THE BARA SING.
1st October. A fine, sharp, frosty morning. I got off at half-past
five, my usual time of starting now, as the sun's fierceness is much
abated at this season. The path followed the stream which was broken
into many rivulets. A brace of teal were espied, which I potted at one
shot. We had then a long hill to get up, and descending the other side
came to a village where Kamal had prepared a fire and fresh milk. He
goes on ahead for the purpose now every morning. We reached Shazgool
at mid-day. Looking about over the valley, I saw some birds, and when
viewing them through the glass found them to be chakore. I took the
gun, and went after them, but they were on the alert and off ere we got
well up to them. However, I knocked two over, right and left; but on
Subhan running to pick them up, one found strength enough to fly away,
and the other gave us a chase. At the report of the gun down came the
dogs from camp, and commenced hunting: they would both do well with
practice and teaching.
2nd October. To Kargyl: a long stage this, but midway very pleasant,
traversing a cultivated vale, and passing under a long grove of
trees whose shade was agreeable, although the air was fresh. Through
Pashgyam, and then over the bare uplands where the sun was oppressive
and the glare great, till we descended into the smiling valley of
Kargyl, with its many willows, fine brawling river, and unsightly
whitewashed fort. I noticed here, as several times previously 'en
route,' some curious cooking vessels from Iskardo. They are chiselled
out of solid stone, of various sizes, from half a gallon to two or
three, are no thicker than the ordinary earthenware pots, and, I am
told, stand the fire better. Although there must be much labour and
skill required in their manufacture, though left quite rough, the price
is but six annas or so, according to size. The colour of the stone is
grey. Another description of vessel of smaller size is carved from
stone at Iskardo, of a greenish-yellow colour, and soft in substance.
These are more for ornament than use, I believe. The former are highly
esteemed for ordinary purposes, and supply the place both of metal and
earthenware utensils in these parts.
3rd October. To Tazgan: a long and very rough march, the path hanging
on the mountain side over the torrent descending a narrow valley which
leads to the pass of Soonamurgh. Some patches of cultivation with
two or three huts here and there on either side--evident signs of
increased fertility of soil--are now discernible. Straggling bushes,
some stunted fir trees, and many deformed, limb-twisted junipers, dot
the sides of the mountains, which are broken into stupendous ranges of
magnificent forms, and shew bright tints in the watercourses seaming
their declivities, where rank grasses and thick-growing shrubs find
suitable soil and moisture. Other coarse herbage also gives a pleasant
hue of green, though now yellowing, to the general surface--all being a
prelude to the coming beauties of Cashmere.
The halting place is by a sort of warehouse for the deposit of the
Maharajah's merchandise in transit, who I find is the principal
merchant of his realms, speculating largely in all produce, and
exercising a monopoly of tea and pasham, chiefly imported from Las;
yet, not to be called a speculation, because he must always make
immense profits, as he pays no dues, fixes his own prices, and forces
sales on his unwilling but submissive subjects. Thus he always ensures
a winning game.
4th October. On turning out, I found that many coolies had deserted.
They were engaged to complete this day's march to Dras. I thought there
was something amiss last night, as the fellows kept up a jabbering
uproar long after I had turned in. Leaving the energetic Abdoolah and
the sepoy to extract other 'slavies' from the few houses straggling in
the neighbourhood--which must shelter a population of forty or fifty,
I imagine, exclusive of women and bairns--I stepped out quickly to
the tune of the crackling ice and crisp ground under me. The scenery
was similar to that of yesterday, except that more open levels were
met with, and the path much improved. The valley widened, admitting
a considerable extent of grassy undulations and flats as we neared
Dras--a large maidan, boasting a fort of the usual form, in good repair
and of unexceptionable whitewash. A large enclosure serves for camping.
A jemadar and some twelve sepoys are here. Enquiring about my last
letter forwarded, I learned to my vexation that it had only left Dras
three days; so I arranged to send in Kamal by tattoo dâk to Sirinuggur,
where he will probably arrive a day sooner than the so-called post, and
rejoin me the other side Soonamurgh. The traps arrived in good time,
coolies having been provided.
5th October. The people all astir unusually early, long before dawn.
I turned out by moonlight--a severe frost, and so fine and fresh--and
tramped away merrily over the frosty, ringing ground, and crossed many
an ice-bound stream; and after some eight miles or so, during which
I had left all my followers far behind, I reached a hamlet called
Pendras, and sending for the head man (mukadam) requested fresh milk
and firewood, shewing a 'jo' as the compensation, which I always
find assists my vocal appeals admirably, and invariably succeeds in
obtaining the trifles I require. After a bit, Mooktoo and others came
up; and then, on again. Ere long a signal from Subhan, close behind
me, brought to notice three fowl below us in the river, a duck and two
teal. I stole down upon them, and dropped the duck as it neared the
opposite bank, and the two teal with the other barrel. Further on I
spied half a dozen teal across the river. We rode down to cross at a
shallow, when a couple of ducks rose, and, having gone down stream,
returned and were passing high over head, when aiming well forward
I fired and down whirled the leader, falling into some bushes. On
reaching him I found Sara already in full possession. I thought the
teal seen were still undisturbed. Syces, Subhan, and moonshi came up
and reported them still visible from above; so, cautiously stealing to
the place, I found three remaining, and waiting till their dabbling
brought them together knocked them all over. Sara, at the discharge,
rushed into the stream, and dragged a struggling victim to shore.
'Sha-bash! Sara.'
We had a stiff pull up a hill abutting into the valley, at the base of
which two streams, issuing severally from deep narrow gorges, united;
and following up the course of that on our right hand, high up above
it, we wound along many a bend and turn. The mountains on our left were
now well clothed with birch woods stretching downwards. Rich heavy
growth of vegetation is now general from rocky summit to base, and the
watercourses are distinguishable by the bright emerald tint of their
grasses, diminishing in brilliancy outwardly, the colouring gradually
assuming a yellowish hue as it recedes from the water. The foliage,
generally, has now assumed a yellow hue from the effects of the severe
frosts; and some of the more sensitive shrubs already glow in the
deepest tints of orange, portions here and there showing like broad red
stripes down the mountain; so vivid is the colour, and the whole effect
of outline and detail is enchanting. Feasting my eyes on these lovely
scenes, I suddenly became aware of an unusual object on one of those
emerald slopes. A moment for the eye to dwell, and I was convinced,
and shouted, "Balloo, balloo." There was the first bear. He was far
away--high up on the other side the river.
Now descending a bit, we came to three stone huts at the foot of an
enormous glacier, whence issued a torrent from eastward. Our further
route lay up the prolongation of the valley we were ascending,
southward. But our day's march was terminated. The bear was on the
opposite mountain-side, straight across; and lying down I watched its
movements, not thinking it worth while to undergo the fatigue of an
attempt on him, from the open character of the ground, and the extreme
probability of his soon returning satiated to his lair. Still he
grubbed, and now and again ascending a rise to reconnoitre returned
to his repast. I dozed: woke up, and there he was still. And so the
parties remained till the arrival of Mooktoo who bore the spyglass.
Through this I now inspected the distant beast, and found it a very
large one. Very soon he moved off; and, after patiently following his
eccentric movements, I marked him down, behind a jutting rock high up
on the mountain. Summoning Phuttoo and Mooktoo, I made my own bunderbus
for the assault; rode Mooktoo across the river, and was obliged to
ascend the mountain by a gulley to windward of the bear's retreat, but
hoped, by getting above, to weather on him. It was hard work getting
up--the grass very slippery, and I had only common shoes on. We reached
right over the spot I thought Bruin occupied; closely examined the rock
I thought he harboured by; but of him we saw nothing. Nor could we get
a glimpse of him elsewhere; so, supposing he had withdrawn unobserved,
we prepared for our difficult descent, in which we were engaged,
Phuttoo assisting my sliding feet, when he uttered an exclamation,
and, following his eye, I saw the dust flying, as the bear, till now
in a fast snooze, scuttled off. Phuttoo handed me the Whitworth, and,
luckily, the brute turned round on a rise far above us to have a look
at the disturbers of his repose. That moment of curiosity was fatal;
as, taking advantage of the glimpse of him, I sent a bolt into his
neck, and staggered him. Growling savagely, he made his way some little
distance, and climbed on to a prominent piece of rock--a fine mark,
about a hundred and fifty yards off. Phuttoo, quickly loading, handed
me the rifle, and the discharge of its contents brought Bruin from
his lofty perch. Mooktoo, who was far above us, made for the spot,
and dragging the carcase from a cleft in which it had lodged, it came
spinning and rolling, over and over, on to a snowdrift in a ravine. I
hastened to inspect it--a fine large female, in full fur, and fat as
butter. I resolved to pack off all the traps, and wait till the skin
and fat were brought in, in the morning.
6th October. All the baggage off, and Mooktoo with two coolies gone for
the spoils, I sat by the fire two hours at least ere the skinning party
returned; then off immediately, and crossed several snowdrifts--the
valley narrow with a gradual, almost imperceptible ascent. We had
arrived at an extensive mass of snow over which ran the path, when
Subhan, as I was crossing it, pointed out some wild fowl on a frozen
pool below. They were far off, and rose wild. As they squattered over
the ice, I fired both barrels and dropped one bird, a duck; then
crossed the snow, and scrutinising the stream saw wild fowl in a bend
under some overhanging snow; crawled up and dropped five of them--a
duck, a widgeon, and three teal.
We continued our route, crossing over to the other side on an enormous
mass of snow filling the ravine--no longer a valley--and bridging the
torrent. A sharp climb up, then a gradual ascent, and we were on the
top of the pass, though not on the top of the mountain. A view of
transcendent magnificence and beauty opened upon us. Every conceivable
form and colour of loveliness in landscape seemed here united. The
mountains, opening out into valleys and dells clad in the richest
verdure, with foliage of infinite variety--only, perhaps, rather too
general a tint of yellow--stretched in ranges on either hand far away
back, giving beautiful distances with their infinite shades of blue.
Close at hand, their savage rugged crests, riven and split into all
imaginable forms of pinnacle and peak, here and there a snow-covered
mass more level separating them, frowned overhead. Lovely peeps
downward to the torrent glistening below were offered through the
vistas of the foliage. Indeed, all was seen from out a frame, and from
under a canopy, of bright foliage. While from below was wafted up a
delicious fresh fragrance of rich and abundant vegetation, giving an
idea of teeming fertility, but all of nature's wildest. I felt that had
I done nothing more in this long excursion than just bring myself to
this spot to feast upon these charms of nature, I had been amply repaid.
I had dismounted, and now descended, the way running down in short
sharp zigzags, the declivity on this side being of great length and
extremely steep. Pausing, now and again, on some prominence to gaze out
upon the glorious picture around, thus I went down my way rejoicing
into a fine grassy vale: then mounted and rode some ten miles along
it, with an occasional stretch of intervening pine woods to cross--the
mountains on either side glorious; those on the left more thickly
timbered. Luxuriating in such scenery--so widely different from that
recently quitted--I reached our halting place, a sweet spot, a level
turf close by a river, over which is thrown a rude but picturesque
bridge. A straggling hamlet being hard by, a few acres of cultivation,
irregular and unfenced, are spread around, the grain now in sheaves.
The valley has opened out into an expanse of downs; but lofty
mountains, mostly covered to their summits with vegetation or timber,
overlook and shut it in. One remarkable mountain, richly clad below,
but his hoary summit bare rock broken into countless pinnacles, stands
as a gaunt sentinel over the hamlet.
I was charmed with so delightful a spot for a bivouac, and determined
to halt to-morrow (Sunday), though I should have to send for
provisions, that is, flour. Subhan went off on his tat to visit a
shepherd on a neighbouring mountain, and obtain reliable information of
shikar. He returned after my dinner, the moonshi Suleiman with him,
who had taken a fancy to accompany him on foot. The shepherd declared
he had heard the bellowing of a stag for the last four or five nights,
and had seen several hinds with one enormous stag in their midst a
few days since; and that there was a pool with a well-trodden track
to it, where these animals passed constantly. Coming back Suleiman,
having started before Subhan, encountered a bear midway. It was now
dusk, and, being unarmed, he had fled amain. Subhan, just seeing him
from an eminence going at top speed, and disappearing in the distance,
could not imagine what possessed him. Poor Suleiman had evidently
exerted himself. He was streaming with perspiration--his long locks in
great disorder. He is too short and stout for continued speed without
disagreeable consequences. I had a little fun with him, which he
enjoyed too. The shepherd had promised to come to camp early in the
morning, and bring further intelligence of the voices of the night.
7th October. Sunday. The morning very cold, a sharp frost as usual. The
sun was well up, and the depths of the valley even smiling under his
genial beams ere I set out for a stroll towards the place indicated
as the shepherd's encampment. All around me replete with picturesque
charms--a perfect landscape--and the atmosphere clear and deliciously
invigorating, my mind could not divest itself of the thoughts and
speculations conjured up by the previous day's reports of the game
hereabouts, which the aspect of the surrounding scene was well
calculated to encourage. It seemed the very 'beau ideal' of a sporting
locality. I strolled on to the top of a hill overlooking a deep valley
covered with rich vegetation, and the woods standing thick around it.
This must be the haunt of the deer, I thought. An old deserted wooden
hut stood on the left hand, but I saw no trace of the shepherd's camp.
Retracing my steps I paused to admire one or two charming sites for a
sketch, bringing in my camp, the village, river, and bridge, with a
long perspective up the valley descended yesterday, and on the left
the huge hoary-headed mountain, conspicuous above its fellows, and
remarkable in its serrated ridge. What a picture it would have made!
But I have quite given up sketching, feeling how entirely incapable I
am of portraying such sublime magnificence--how inadequate would be my
most successful efforts to represent such scenes!
The shepherd had arrived. Indeed, I had met him, but took him for the
mukadam. He had not noticed the bellowing of the stag during the night,
but thought there was no doubt of his being still somewhere thereabout.
I arranged to move up to his place in the evening after dinner, simply
taking my bedding and food for the day following, and to give chase to
the stag on Monday.
In the middle of the day Subhan came, and said it would be well for
himself and Phuttoo to start at once for the ground, and make a
reconnaissance: to this I consented. After dinner I set out myself,
and met the shepherd on the way, who whispered something in a peculiar
manner to Mooktoo. On my enquiring what it was, he told me the bara
sing was dead, shot by Subhan. I was exceedingly annoyed: the act
was so altogether contrary to usage and orders. I was guided to the
place, not more than two miles from my camp, and there lay the stag,
a noble specimen with fine branching horns of great beauty, Subhan
looking guilty and agitated, Phuttoo also putting on a demure look of
doubtful expectation. Reprimanding my delinquent hunter, and much
vexed, I went back and took up my night's quarters at the old wooden
hut. From enquiry there appeared to be no chance of finding another
bara sing; but there were numbers of bears, so I resolved to try and
compass the destruction of some of those animals in the morning. As I
sat cogitating over the fire, a woodcock came flitting about, uttering
his peculiar grating croak. There was a plashy rivulet amid the rank
vegetation just below us, which was a likely haunt for this long-billed
visitor.
8th October. Though early astir, it was deemed useless to hunt before
the sun had sufficiently displayed his power to warm the valley, and
by melting the hoar frost rendered the herbage suitable for Bruin's
early repast. So I first had breakfast, and then took my way up a
narrow well-timbered valley in which the shepherd had, a few days
since, viewed sixteen bears. There were plenty of tracks now, but
only one bear seen far up on the hill-side. Having crossed much snow,
we ascended a steep tortuous gorge which brought us to another long
valley, where again signs of bears were abundant. After a considerable
pause I descried one far up the hill-side. We watched him till he
apparently retired to snooze. We then had to make a tremendous stiff
ascent, terminating in a wall-like rock, up the face of which we had to
pull ourselves by the bushes growing on the surface, hand over hand. At
last we got over the spot we expected to find Bruin in, but fancying
him gone began to talk, when a fierce growl answered us. I desired
Phuttoo to throw a stone into the thicket, which done, out bolted
Bruin, and growling savagely took up a grassy opening, leading straight
to us. He was half covered by the long grass. I took a snap shot, and
hit him hard, when, yelling out his extreme dissatisfaction, he made
off down hill as fast as he could scuttle, and escaped.
We now returned straight for camp, and saw nothing more. On
arrival I was informed that Captain Austen had passed and left two
newspapers--one containing my extension of leave, he said. I eagerly
enquired, "How much?" "A month," replied Abdoolah. I was all
exultation--alas! soon reduced by the gazette proving that I had got
but to the thirty-first instant. However, there was yet time, perhaps,
to kill a bara sing. There was a good locality ahead.
9th October. A very hard frost, and difficult to attain comfortable
warmth by the most rapid walking, till the sun helped one. Bold
romantic scenery, but a horrid road--I really think the worst four
miles yet encountered. We met Kamal with letters, papers, and fruit. I
sat down to read the former; Errington confirms gazette,--all well at
home, thank God!--two brothers in Switzerland.
The road improved as the valley widened. There was a good deal of
cultivated land, but only a hovel or two here and there, the peasants,
I believe, deserting this beautiful and fertile valley, in order to
avoid the constant impressment they are subject to as coolies here on
this highway to Iskardo and Ladâk. The walnut trees were very large and
abundant. Bear sign everywhere. We halted at a picturesque hamlet from
which every male, save an old infirm man, had fled to the jungle to
escape being pressed for Austen's baggage, a quantity of which was here
detained for lack of porters. This was a bad look out. I gave orders to
make liberal promises to my Dras coolies to keep them in good humour,
as I could not possibly discharge them. They remonstrated loudly; but
there was no alternative.
10th October. Some ten coolies with one horse and yâk levanted during
the night, and carried off Phuttoo's blanket; so he said. The silly
fellows had thus sacrificed four days' hire. What could be done? The
mukadam was found, and I got out of the way, leaving the energetic
Abdoolah and the unscrupulous shikarries to practise such measures as
they thought the case required.
I followed a charming path through woodlands skirting a river--the
Scind, I believe--to a small hamlet shaded by enormous, umbrageous
walnuts. This is but half a march; but from hence we start up the
mountains after the bara sing. It is a famous ground, and we have news
of the stags being in numbers bellowing there. A native of this place
confirmed the intelligence, telling us that he had a field high up the
hill, and being there at work four days ago he had heard the bellowing.
I engaged him as guide.
Abdoolah and Co. had managed to obtain coolies and tats to bring in
all the baggage, and from muttered conversation I fear that much
oppression was exercised. However, I did not enquire too strictly into
the case, but ordered liberal rewards. Arrangements were made to divide
the party. Phuttoo goes on with the baggage to Sirinuggur. I take my
bedding, canteen, a stew, &c., and Buddoo attends me. All the coolies
were shut up in a house at night and guarded--a necessary precaution,
but a most disagreeable one.
11th October. Up betimes, and parting directions given to Abdoolah to
mind and pay the coolies liberally.
I ordered the two dogs to be laid hold of, but poor Sara put on so
piteous an air of dejection, looking so disappointed and miserable
that I could not refuse his mute appeal, and he bounded frantically
to my side on the hint to come. We had a heavy climb of some three
miles up a well-wooded mountain, occasionally passing over open glades
richly cropped with rank grass, and so on to the lower crest, whence
slope very steep, smooth, grassy sides to a ravine, the other side of
which was a mountain equally steep, but covered as thickly as possible
with fir and other trees from crest to base. Just as we reached the
top our ears were saluted by the welcome bellow of a stag. I went a
little further ahead, and then went down the slope and heard two or
three more bellowing lustily. I had a good idea of the exact spot where
these angry challengers were, and longed to be at them, but the jungle
was said to be impracticable. One animal had evidently shifted his
quarters. Subhan now joined me; and, mentioning what I had observed, I
suggested a move towards the neighbourhood of the moving stag. He was
all for it, too.
We gained the spot that we desired, and were greeted by lusty roars
across a ravine, the voice issuing from the fir trees, now and again
repeated. So on, for a couple of hours, when a gentle doe was spied
amid the low bushes in the ravine. How stealthily and gently she moved
about, her ears pricked, and restlessly reconnoitring all around! After
a time she came a few yards up the slope, and, having paused under
a tree, again took to the bushes and disappeared. Soon the stag's
renewed bellowing betrayed him to be on the stir, seeking in agitation
his flighty mistress, and he was suddenly viewed high up on our side
the ravine, standing listening and looking for his lost mate. A rapid
consultation and withdrawing from sight; and we then crept crouching
to make a detour, and ascending the hill-side intercept our prey on a
line it was thought that he would take. All was now subdued excitement.
It was undoubtedly a bara sing of the largest size. We had some two
hundred yards further to toil up, when suddenly a loud bellow resounded
straight before us, proceeding from behind a clump of bushes crowning
a knoll on our left. To drop and handle Whitworth was instantaneous.
And hardly was I ready when Subhan whispered "there he comes", and
truly, heralded by his huge antlers, he topped the rise, and was at
once immersed in the bushes, his form too much concealed by boughs and
foliage to risk a shot. Soon he emerged, forcing his way, and came
on--verily, a royal beast! Once I aimed, but the inequality of the
ground removed him. Then he again presented himself, almost fronting
me. Now sped the deadly bolt, and over rolled this forest monarch;
then, throwing himself violently forward, he struggled down the steep
declivity, almost concealed in the high thick fern. Sara fearlessly
rushed upon the prostrate beast, and assailed him in the rear, jumping
about, and barking frantically, and now and again taking a bite at the
haunch. The animal was quite safe; but, lest he might go to the bottom
of the deep ravine, where his headlong struggles were leading him, I
scrambled after him, and delivered three other shots, the last behind
the neck, coming out at the mouth.
The butcher's work finished, we ascended towards our bivouac, taking
up a position whence an extensive view of the hill-side was obtained.
Other stags were still audible, and suddenly Mooktoo started, and
following his eye we saw a stag which had come over from behind us,
out of the fir jungle which covered that side of our ridge. He did not
see us, and passed downwards at a quick walk, in the direction we had
recently come from. Of course, we were soon rapidly pursuing. The hill
was steep, and I leading had just gained the top of the slope, when
I was aware of the presence of the stag which, having just caught a
glimpse of me, was standing erect, gazing at me. He had apparently just
turned on his tracks, and thus met us face to face. He had probably
been scared by the smell of blood. He was about two hundred yards
off, his chest towards me; but unfortunately I was now lying down,
completely blown, and my hand, in consequence, so unsteady that I would
not risk a shot, hoping that he might yet come on. But no: he turned,
and trotted up to the crest of the ridge to take covert. The case being
urgent, I rested the Whitworth on Subhan's shoulder, and aiming forward
and high struck him somewhere behind the shoulder, but high. He was
then on the sharp ridge, and apparently flinched, and fell to the shot.
We speeded up as fast as the steepness allowed, expecting to view the
animal; but he had dived down the precipitous bank into the jungle. We
were soon on his tracks, easily found and followed by the blood which
appeared to have been spurting out of the wound. We thought we were
sure of him; but daylight failing, and the blood diminishing, we came
to a fault, and, though hitting off the slot again, could not work it
out, so reluctantly gave it up, resolved to take up the pursuit in the
morning.
We climbed back, and made for our bivouac. It was now black dark, and
our fires were blazing away famously, lighting up the black masses of
firs in the midst of which was our camp. Dinner was soon ready. This
was a bright hour of a hunter's existence. The day had been successful,
and the morrow was full of hope and promise. The bivouac, with its
romance of situation, its glowing fires, crackling and flickering,
throwing a ruddy glare over all surrounding objects, and thereby
revealing the black recesses of the forest--bringing prominently out
the picturesque groups, the giant shadow of one or other of whom moving
athwart, in execution of some culinary work, was occasionally cast
across the scene--was in its way perfect. I adjourned to the fire, and
chatted and planned with the two hunters: then retired to my lair,
thinking in the words of the old song, "Oh! 'tis merry, 'tis merry, in
good greenwood."
Mooktoo is to track up to-morrow with the guide and coolies; Subhan and
I, Kamal attending, to look for fresh game. Subhan proposes going over
the summit of the mountain in the middle of the day.
12th October. I was accoutring myself as day broke, and the two parties
started together, our path being the same for some distance. We had not
gone far ere Subhan spied a stag far down below us, standing up. He
soon lay down, and there seemed a good chance of a successful stalk;
but Subhan, the impetuous Subhan, taking the lead, descended straight
down the steep slope towards the recumbent deer. I remonstrated
at this barefaced attempt on so wary an animal--the wind was also
unfavourable--but the wilful Subhan held on his course, sliding on his
back, as did I and Kamal. Soon the stag showed signs of uneasiness,
became restless, looked around him, then rose, and finally stept
gracefully and quietly from our view. When we reached his ground,
we found no clue to his retreat. Another was heard in the jungle,
bellowing loudly, his deep, hoarse notes and powerful lungs bespeaking
him a first-rate stag. I had noticed his voice yesterday in the same
spot. Others were answering him. Thinking we might ascertain the
precise spot he harboured in, and then stalk him through the jungle, we
advanced on him, and lay down to listen and watch: from which time he
kept mute. We remained thus about a couple of hours, and then returned
to bivouac to breakfast.
Mooktoo came back, also unsuccessful. He had followed the track right
down to the river at the foot of the mountain, where the thick shrubs
and matted underwood frustrated any further attempt. In this heavy
thicket, close to water, the stricken deer had doubtless taken refuge
to die. Oh! for an Australian native, or a good hound! But these
Cashmere hunters are wretched creatures on a trail.
I went down the slopes to listen. The stag before-noticed and others
were again bellowing. I sat reading till Subhan called me, the coolies
and whole party being on the way to the other place, and passing by
me. I called attention to the fact of the certainty of game here,
but Subhan said the place we were going to harboured more deer,
and presented greater facilities for stalking, being more open and
level, and the jungles so thin that if we heard a stag bellow we
should certainly be able to approach and shoot him--and so forth.
With great reluctance and serious misgivings I turned to leave this
favourite haunt of the bara sing, where there could be no doubt of
several harbouring, to proceed to one knew not what sort of place,
notwithstanding the anticipations of the sanguine Subhan.
We had a tremendous pull up the mountain, from the summit of which was
presented a magnificent panoramic view of the valley of Cashmere, of
which the eye could embrace the greater extent. Down immediately below
the spurs of this vast mountain lay smooth and glittering the Dal lake,
not a ripple disturbing its mirror-like surface, the reflections of the
small islands with their noble chunar trees only distinguishable from
the realities by the inverted position. Across the lake was the city--a
confusion of trees, water, and dimly seen buildings, shrouded in smoke
and haze. It being mid-day, a glare and a haze obscured the distant
features; through it, however, the opposite range of hills enclosing
the valley, with its countless sunny peaks, was plainly defined. It was
a glorious landscape. Nothing earthly, I should imagine, could surpass
it.
Having gazed my fill, I thought of the shooting qualities of the
new beat, and saw with disappointment that, though the slopes were
extensive, they were very steep, and the ravines, though admirably
adapted for coverts, were very rugged, precipitous, and inaccessible.
There were probably many deer there, and we might see them; but to get
at them, to cross from one slope to another, was out of the question.
Many places, where deer had couched in the rank grass, were passed
on the upper slopes, but still I felt a misgiving that we should do
nothing there.
We turned off the ridge to the left, to our camp ground which overhung
the valley we had come from. In the afternoon I went out to watch and
listen, and heard a stag bellow. We got opposite his position, a ravine
dividing us, when we were compelled to leave him as it was now dusk,
and returned to camp with the understanding that we would beat up his
quarters in the morning. I could hear the stags in the deep vale below,
and regretted having given them up.
The night was very chill, and the forest damp with its dead leaves and
decaying vegetation. But a rousing fire of dry fir spread a glow and
warmth around. It is a delightful thing, a bright, crackling fire on a
cold night in the forest. There are not many remaining for me to enjoy
now, as to-morrow closes my hunting season: the next day is Sunday, and
on Monday morning I must make tracks for Sirinuggur.
13th October. As previously agreed we were ready to start at earliest
dawn, and on reaching the ravine, where we heard the stag last night,
we stopped to listen. Ere long we were rewarded by the low bleat of a
doe, which was once or twice repeated. Then came answering the hoarse
cry of a stag. These animals would seem to be in some thick trees
opposite us, across the ravine. Subhan, after a while, proposed that
we should cross the head of the ravine to which we were close, and so
reach the ridge over it, and above the deer, leaving Kamal and the
guide who, when they saw us at a point determined, were to descend and
move down the ravine; when, it was hoped, the deer alarmed would cross
the ridge near us to enter another ravine. The plan was approved as the
only one we could here adopt.
We put it in force and gained the ridge, along which Subhan was
advancing, and passing a clear, open, grassy dell leading from the
ravine in which were the deer, when Mooktoo, greatly excited, signalled
the game: but at that very moment they became concealed by the fir
trees fringing the ridge over which they went, and we arrived in time
to see a fine stag and hind far below us in the bottom of the adjoining
ravine. We now descended some distance, hoping to catch a sight of the
deer--but in vain; and as it was, in all probability, useless to look
for game elsewhere at this hour we resolved to take up our quarters
here for the day, thus reserving the chance of the deer coming out to
feed in the evening. I, therefore, selected a seat in the rocks under
a bush--just space enough for me to sit in--and what with a fine fat
wild-duck for breakfast, and my newspapers afterwards, contrived to
pass the time without weariness.
About four o'clock we all roused ourselves to peer into the ravine,
and Mooktoo soon detected a stag coming from under some trees. He,
however, almost immediately passed from view downwards. Waiting
some time without another glimpse of him, we moved upwards with the
intention of trying to meet him, but found the sides of the hill so
steep, and the dry herbage so noisy, that we thought it quite useless
to proceed in that direction, so ascended to the top of the ridge, and
moved along that downwards. Mooktoo and I went ahead of the others,
and all took posts of observation. We two ere long saw a stag, in
all probability that just seen. It appeared as though he would cross
the ridge we were on far below us, so we hastened to intercept him.
The ridge was sharp and rough, hardly giving space for the foot; but
on we hastened, turning to the left as the ridge diverged at a right
angle; now down some precipitous steps of rock, and we were over the
dingle in which we had last observed the deer evidently making in this
direction. We could not examine our side thoroughly from its roughness
and extreme steepness. We could see nothing of the deer. Had he already
crossed over? If so, he must have greatly quickened his pace. We went
on a little, and then descended the slope a few yards to get a better
view of the depths extending below us. Here I sat down, intending to
await events, but Mooktoo urged me to go up again, and follow further
on the ridge. We did so; but nothing could be seen of the deer. So,
supposing he had in some manner given us the slip, we turned back, and
were crossing the place where we first expected to meet him in his
ascent, when little Sara, sniffing the air, all at once started off,
taking short jumps into the air, and barking. Mooktoo ran after the
dog, and in great excitement signalled the chase close at hand. The
little dog gave tongue. I ran forward--but nothing was in sight. I
paused for information, when from the bottom of the dell sounded the
belling of the deer--a peculiar note, expressive, I fancy, of alarm and
excitement. Only his head and back were visible above the high, thick
fern. I hesitated to fire. He moved on up the opposite side, and as he
paused, only showing his head and ridge of back, I fired. We thought
him struck, as he drooped, and did not come in view for some seconds,
when he was seen leisurely going off along the hill-side; but I believe
the dip of the ground deceived us. There vanished my last chance of
a bara sing. Sad, very sad, we wended our way back to camp, our last
day's sport ended so unluckily.