SHOOTING AN ANTELOPE—SNOW—A MYSTERIOUS TRACK—THE BED OF AN ANCIENT LAKE—EMOTION OF MAHOMED RAHIM—VARIABLE WEATHER—MORE ANTELOPES SHOT—THEODOLITE BROKEN—EXTRAORDINARILY SUDDEN WIND—HUNGER v. CEREMONY—NEW FINDS.

Before starting forth again we upbraided the head muleteer, Ghulam Russul, for his chicken-heartedness and bad example to the rest of the men. He denied a grumbling spirit, and said he was brave and ready to undergo any hardship, and follow us anywhere, but as to the other men, he said they were a discontented lot. Knowing as we did how he influenced them, his statement bore no weight with us. We made a double march over undulating grassy country, intersected by some broad gravel nullahs, running almost at right angles to our course. South of us lay a range of hills running east and west, making it appear as though a river were running along at their base, and for this reason we intended to steer gradually for them.

At night we found a well-sheltered nook, with water close at hand, and such splendid grass that we were induced to remain half the next day and feed up; besides, there had been no signs at all of Tokhta and Sulloo, and we considered this the last hope of ever seeing them again. Henceforth we would make no more provision for their coming, in the shape of leaving food and grain behind. It was fortunate we had fixed on a half day's halt, for at daybreak there was a strong wind blowing from the north with driving sleet. The grass at this camp, No. 56, had far more nourishment in it than any other grass we had come across up to the present, and Ghulam Russul remarked that if we saw more grass like it we were sure to come across nomads, so all were, for the time being, in a more hopeful frame of mind. The melting snow had made the marching somewhat heavy, and there was no lack of water.

Soon after starting, Malcolm, who had gone on ahead, came hurrying back to me, with the request that I would come with him and shoot an antelope, for he had seen a great number of them. Shortly afterwards we saw a large herd grazing or playing about as antelopes do, but one of them, without the slightest provocation, came trotting towards us; perhaps he was wondering whatever could have brought such queer-looking creatures there as we were. We sat down to make ourselves still more mysterious and to receive him, when suddenly his instinct seemed to tell him that there was just a suspicion of danger attached to us, for he started off at a gallop, crossing our front at about fifty yards distance. We both fired simultaneously at so inviting a mark, and both hit. It was a sight worth seeing, an antelope retreating at top speed in a second bowled over quite dead, so much so that when Mahomed Rahim, who was at hand, rushed up to hallal him, no blood would flow from the operation, and the men declared it was not fit for them to eat. In one way it was satisfactory to hear them say this, for we were convinced that up to date they had not been suffering from hunger. If they had, no hesitation, through religious scruples, would have arisen about eating the antelope's flesh.

We halted by a lake whose water tasted very nearly fresh, but the banks were so treacherous that it was a hazardous undertaking to get close to it, and after our previous experience we preferred digging instead. This very likely accounted for the absence of game in the neighbourhood, that they could not get to the water; but it is difficult to account for the absence of birds on the lake itself, for there was not even a Brahmini duck. A bright night, and we made preparations for a very early start the next morning, but the ill luck that sometimes accompanied us had brought another storm, so that the ground bore a very white appearance, and all idea of marching, for the time being, had to be abandoned. By noon, although the ground was still heavy, we ventured forth again, and hit off another large lake containing water very nearly fresh.

Throughout the day storms continued to rage around us amidst the adjacent hills, but, fortunately, none fell actually over us; we could not help reflecting how all this snow must have entirely baffled Sulloo and Tokhta in their tracking us, that is, if they had attempted to do so. Everywhere the country was beautifully grassy, and occasionally we picked a new species of flower. Another large lake was situated to the north of us, and during our march down the valley the hills that lay both north and south were gradually closing in. As we proceeded, the going became more difficult. In addition to another snowstorm which had fallen during the night, the valley became split up by irregular nullahs and hills running in every direction, with no defined features.

We continued making our double marches, and as the loads were becoming lighter we hoped to cover fifteen miles a day. One great continuous anxiety was the task of finding enough game to shoot, that we might all live. At one time it would be plentiful enough, at others for days we could find nothing. On some nights we registered over twenty degrees of frost, and still remained over 16,000 feet above the sea level, and at this great height we actually saw a brown butterfly.

On the 20th of July we began to notice the days were growing shorter, as the sun would rise just a few minutes before 5 o'clock; but the whole country appeared to be changing for the better, which in no small degree alleviated our fears of being able to get across this high plateau before the cold weather should set in. Generally speaking, everywhere there was more grass growing, and, instead of the coarse tufts we had been accustomed to see, their place was taken by short crisp grass, the kind of growth that is so much sought after by the nomads. We were, too, making a very gradual descent, and felt convinced that, with such natural signs, we must before very long hit off streams which would lead us to some sort of civilization.

At our midday halt the men's spirits were more cheerful. We had stopped in a fine broad nullah, running nearly due east, with pleasant-looking grassy hills sloping down on either side, and, with a cloudless sky and no wind, we were glad to sit in our shirt-sleeves, whilst our twelve veteran mules, with their saddles off, rolled in the sand before enjoying the rich grass and water. We began to pick fresh additions to our flower collection, the specimens being chiefly of a mauve or white colour, and up to the present time we had only found one yellow flower. At 7.30 p.m., in Camp 61, at a height of over 16,000 feet, the temperature was forty degrees Fahrenheit, and during the night there were nineteen degrees of frost. Fine grass and fine weather still favoured us, while the presence of a number of sand-grouse indicated that water was at no great distance off.

Just after leaving Camp 62, we were all struck with wonderment at finding a track running almost at right angles to our own route. It was so well defined, and bore such unmistakable signs of a considerable amount of traffic having gone along it, that we concluded it could be no other than a high road from Turkistan to the mysterious Lhassa, yet the track was not more than a foot broad. Our surmises, too, were considerably strengthened when one of the men picked up the entire leg bone of some baggage animal, probably a mule, for still adhering to the leg was a shoe. This was a sure proof that the road had been made use of by some merchant or explorer, and that it could not have been merely a kyang or yak track, or one made use of only by nomads, for they never shoe their animals in this part of the world.

Such a startling discovery as this bore weight with the men, and nothing would have suited their spirits better than to have stuck to the track and march northwards, and they evidently thought us strange mortals for not following this course; therefore, instead of being elated with joy, they became more despondent than ever when they found we were still bent upon blundering along in our eastern route. But it was our strong belief that we should for a certainty find people in a very few days' time, and this being the case, we did not see the force of travelling in a wrong direction, and put aside the objects for which we had set out, just to suit the passing whim of a few craven-hearted men, especially when we knew that the cause of their running short of food and consequent trouble was entirely due to their own dishonest behaviour. We did, however, send one man, Mahomed Rahim, supplied with food, with instructions to follow the road north as far as he had courage to go, thinking that when he had crossed a certain range of hills he would discover the whereabouts of people. Furthermore we explained to him the way we intended going, so that there could be no chance of his losing himself.

A mile or so further on we came to the dried-up salt bed of a very ancient lake. The salt was in every shape and form of crustation, and the whole lake for several miles across was divided up into small squares with walls one to three feet high, rugged and irregular. The going across this was troublesome and arduous, first stumbling over one wall, then crossing a few yards of crumbling, crystallised salt before another had to be scrambled over. Thus it went on for mile after mile, and the length of the lake being most deceptive it seemed as though we should never, never cross it. As the sun rose higher some of the salt composite melted, and then we found ourselves first in slush, then on a bit of hard, rugged going, most liable to cause a sprain to any of the mules. It became evident that unless we were pretty smart in getting off the lake altogether, we should find ourselves bogged there for the rest of the day; thus our first idea of going straight ahead across the lake had to fall through, and we steered for the nearest shore, which was on the southern side, all the time the ground getting worse and more treacherous. When, only in the nick of time, we did stand on a sound footing again, we congratulated ourselves that for once only had we deviated a short way from our course. Although this salt bed had proved such an unforeseen obstacle in our line, still it was useful to us in another way. The salt was of an excellent quality, and we were able to replenish our store of this most necessary article, of which there was so little left that we were carefully economising it.

During the morning's march next day we shot an antelope and a kyang, and not wishing to delay the mules or to overload them, we left two men behind, Ghulam Russul and Shukr Ali, to cut up the meat and bring it in, whilst we continued in search of a suitable spot for a midday halt. This was a plan we frequently adopted, and there were always volunteers to stop behind, for by doing so they took good care to light a fire and feast on the tit-bits to their hearts' content, and well fortify themselves before carrying the load of meat to their fellow muleteers.

We had halted, and were expecting the arrival of these two men, when Mahomed Rahim, who had been sent to follow up the track, rejoined us, and as he approached we could see he was weeping bitterly. On asking the man what ailed him, he sobbed out that he had lost his way. He was a ludicrous sight, for he was a great, big, strong fellow, and we asked him, if he wept like this at finding us again after only being absent a day and a night, how would he weep had he not found us at all? We fed up the great baby with some unleavened bread, which he ate voraciously amidst his sobs. Some kyang came trotting up to camp with a look of wonderment at our being present there, and as we were about to move off some antelopes also came to inspect us.

The men carried quantities of cooked meat about their persons, wrapped up in their clothes, and as they tramped along they munched almost incessantly at the tough food tending to make them very thirsty, so that when we halted for the night they suffered considerably, for the water we dug out was too salt for drinking.

The following morning we came to a most dreary-looking region, ornamented only with a big salt lake, without any vegetation or kind of life, making us eager to get across such a solitude. At the east end of the lake we marched over rising ground up a nullah about a couple of miles before we came to some fairly good grass, where we called a halt, never dreaming that we were doomed to an unpleasant disappointment. On getting up some water from below the surface, we found it to be the worst we had tasted, quite impossible for man or beast to drink. Two of the men, however, did gulp some of it down, and suffered in consequence for their indulgence. Their thirst became far more acute than was that of the rest of us. We were afraid that should we find no water by the evening, it would go badly with all. Some of the animals were too thirsty even to eat the grass. We, therefore, made an earlier start than usual, sending on ahead a couple of men to search for water in some likely-looking ground that lay some distance on in front on our right flank.

As we were marching along in silence, we suddenly saw the two men were coming towards us, and as soon as they drew near enough for the other muleteers to see by their animated appearance that they had found water, they made a general rush towards them, forgetful of what became of the mules, or whether Malcolm and myself had any water at all. Their one and only thought, as usual, was themselves. A few miles further on we found two pools of good water, and resolved to remain there half a day to give the animals a chance of regaining their lost strength.

During the night our tent had great difficulty in withstanding the wind, that blew with much violence, while the temperature fell to twenty-one degrees of frost. As we had run short of iron pegs, we found a most efficient substitute in fastening the ropes to our tin boxes of ammunition. On other occasions, too, the ground was so sandy that pegs were entirely useless, and each rope had to be fastened to a yakdan, or to one of our bags of grain.

During the afternoon we marched along a broad, grassy, and somewhat monotonous valley, steering for some snow peaks we had seen the previous day. We found no game, excepting sand-grouse, which, by their unmistakable notes, made their presence known in the mornings up to 8 or 9 o'clock, and after sunset.

On the 26th July we left Camp 66, moving off by moonlight, for the going was easy. On halting for breakfast, two antelopes ventured to come and have a look at us, and, of course, paid the penalty of death. Such an opportunity as this was not to be thrown away, and laying them together, I photographed them, and afterwards cut them up, carrying as much meat as we possibly could manage—enough for three or four days' consumption. The afternoon was hot, like a summer's day in England. Some yak, resembling big black dots, could be seen in several of the grassy nullahs: a trying temptation to have a stalk after them, for the ground was of such a nature that with care one might have come up to within a hundred yards of some of them without being seen. But then it would have been useless to slaughter them, so we contented ourselves with watching their movements, and with making out what we could have done had we been merely on an ordinary shooting trip, or had we been hard up for meat.

We met with a great misfortune that afternoon, for one of the mules had been loaded so carelessly that its baggage, consisting of two yakdans, fell off with a crash on to some ground as hard as rock. One of these yakdans contained my theodolite, and on opening up for the evening's observations, I found the top spirit level was broken, and from that time I had to be dependent only upon the sextant.

As usual we were off by 4.30 a.m., and going on ahead, I climbed up some hills to spy out the land. It was pleasant walking, for grass grew everywhere, and in the lower-lying ground were flowers and water. On crossing a certain ridge I saw two yak grazing quietly, as they probably had done without any interruption ever since they had been dependent upon themselves for picking up a living. I sat down silently, without, however, attempting concealment, to enjoy the sight of watching carefully, at so short a distance, the habits of these massive, dark-haired cattle at home in their wild state. At length the caravan, which had been marching along on much lower ground, over grassy valleys, came in sight, a signal that I must push ahead again and reconnoitre. I rose, therefore, and walked up towards the two yak, and one of them was so tame and eager to make out whatever on earth I was, that he allowed me to walk up to within forty yards of him, so that, had I chosen, I might have given him a very telling shot. As it was, he merely trotted off a short way and started grubbing again.

Ahead of us was a range of mountains, an imposing sight, with grand snow peaks, the very ones we had been steering for. From the high ground it seemed as though there was a pass leading over them between two of the peaks, but entirely without vegetation. It was impossible to make out how far the pass went, and what would be in store for us after we had reached the point as far as we could see. We calculated that the climb in our present condition could not have been done in one march, and wondered how we could strengthen our animals sufficiently for the second march, if there were no grass at the end of the first. We knew from experience that an ascent of this description would have taken more out of our mules than several days of ordinary marching, and therefore determined to abandon the idea of surmounting the pass, or rather what appeared to be a pass, but to strike north, finding a way somehow or other round the entire range.

As we steered for some extra good-looking grass and water by which to make our midday halt and give the mules their midday graze, a couple of inquisitive yak actually came trotting after us, keeping at a distance of two or three hundred yards. Such boldness augured well for a plentiful supply of good meat in the future. We were glad to pitch our tent in this pleasant spot for a few hours, and even under that shade the maximum thermometer registered seventy-five degrees.

Having breakfasted off our antelope meat and some good tea, we were busy with our maps, and drying flowers, etc. Everything was spread out—for such frail specimens it was a splendid opportunity; the men were sleeping, too. The mules, having eaten their fill, were standing still enjoying the rest and perfect peace; all was absolute silence, with the exception of our own chatting to each other, as we amused ourselves with our hobbies, when without a moment's notice a powerful blast of wind caught us with such violence that the tent was blown down and many things were carried completely away, and our camp, which only a second ago had been the most peaceful scene imaginable, became a turbulent one of utter confusion, as every one jumped up in an instant, anxious to save anything he could lay hold of, or to run frantically after whatever had escaped—for some things were being carried along at a terrific rate. Fortunately the loss, compared to the excitement, was trifling; but we made up our minds not to be caught napping in this way again.

That same afternoon, after marching north, we crossed a river that took its rise from the snow peaks; the bed was sandy, about half a mile across, with several small, swiftly-flowing streams about a foot deep, which had to be crossed barefooted. This was the largest body of water we had as yet come across, and there was much speculation amongst us as to where it would lead, and we thought we should at any rate not lose sight of its course. Splendid green grass and flowers were flourishing everywhere. Vegetables, too, were a valuable addition to our table, for besides the "kumbuk" and "hann," we here first found the wild onion, which afterwards formed the chief staple of our food. Onions cut up into pieces and fried in yak's fat, was a dish appetising at these great heights in the absence of other food, besides being very sustaining and an excellent medicine for all internal complaints. On some nights the mules and ponies were wont to stray, but with such good grass close at hand, and the presence of water in more than one place, as a rule they did not go very far; but, as we could not run the risk of a long delay, the first thing in the morning, they were nearly always watched throughout the night in turn by the men. We found a nullah with a small stream in it running eastwards, rising all the time, and marched up it, leaving the river to wind its way north; we had no real fear of losing it, for we could see it turned east again later on. At the top of the pass we found another nullah running northwards, and followed this down to a prairie-like looking valley, thence on to a beautiful lake. At the western extremity we could see it was fed by the river we had crossed the day before. All around the valleys and hills were green, and on many of them the grazing yak were dotted about in great numbers.

As we were now running short of meat I instituted a stalk against one of them, and took a vast amount of trouble and exertion in order to come to a close range before firing, little knowing that it was a waste of labour, as one could have approached them with taking only ordinary precautions. Close to the yak were several kyang, who were the more watchful of the two, for they were the first to notice my crawling along and at once stood up in bewilderment, but beyond that they did nothing more, so that I was enabled, without in the remotest degree disturbing the yak, to get within sixty yards of them. There I took my shot and bowled over with a single bullet the one which I considered to be the juiciest-looking one in the herd. The rest of them merely raised their heads for a moment at the unwonted noise, and then began to graze again, making no attempt to escape. I, too, then rose, and it was only after a deal of shouting that they grasped that it really was rather dangerous to remain where they were, thereupon off they trotted across the valley, far, far away. Not so the herd of kyang, who appeared the most disturbed at first; they continued to manoeuvre around the whole time we were there, as though inviting us to try our skill on them, but one dead yak is oceans of meat for a much larger caravan than ours, for many a day.

As soon as one of the men had come up, I told him to look sharp and cut its throat for it was not quite dead, although in reality it had breathed its last some ten minutes ago. He at once set to work, but so tough was the hide, and so blunt his knife, that he could not cut through it, and merely first pricked it with the point; and although no blood exuded, he nevertheless told the other men that he had properly hallaled the brute, and they by this time having become less scrupulous with regard to their religious custom, made no bones about arguing as to the meat being unfit for them to eat. As a matter of fact they were beginning to learn what real hunger was. Some of them came to help cut off the meat in a business-like sort of way, pretending not to examine the throat at all.

As we made our midday halt only a hundred yards from the carcass, all fed right royally, and carried off large lumps of the flesh as well. The men, too, were in high spirits, for they had found a very old chula, or fireplace, consisting of three stones, and what was still more joyful tidings, close to the dead yak ran a narrow track actually in the direction we intended going.

About here we also saw some new creatures—large marmots, butterflies, and hoopoos. I skinned one of the latter. Such fresh sights, and the discovery of the track in addition to the improvement in the climate, the grass and abundance of water, made all eager to be off again in expectation as to where the track would lead us.