The Diary of a Hunter from the Punjab to the Karakorum Mountains
CHAPTER XIII.
THE YÂK.
27th August. Under the guidance of the old Yarkandi's servant who bore the long rifle, with only my bedding and three days' provision, we started on our hunting excursion up the valley. We had but about five miles to go, then bivouacked amid the brushwood opposite a deep gorge running far back into the mountains, where we were to try our luck after the yâk. I had expected to commence operations this afternoon, but the Yarkand hunter objected, on the just ground of the wind blowing up the ravines in the day time, and down them early in the morning, therefore advising a very early start. I dined at five, and at sunset went to the fire, where, summoning the Yarkandi and Moosa to interpret, we questioned him as to the nature of the ground we were to go over to-morrow, the habits of the kutass, as he calls the yâk, and the prospects of sport. He said, the place was not far, and the yâk plentiful, and that we were sure of finding them, as he had never yet failed to do in this spot; he had been hunting here some three months back, and with two other men had killed nine, three of them close by us. This intelligence set us quite cock-a-hoop.
28th August. We were all afoot ere dawn, and off up the mountain. Having gained some distance, we came upon tracks which in the dull light we pronounced recent, and continued our toilsome ascent, cheered by the discovery. A bitter sharp wind came off the snows, cutting one's face like a knife, and here, as in all this region, respiration was most difficult. The Yarkandi, to my surprise, suffered more than any of us from this inconvenience, stopping every ten or a dozen paces for relief. We reached the grassy slopes under the snows, where yâk were wont to be invariably found; but, one after the other, they were anxiously reconnoitred, and found blank. As the light had increased, I carefully examined the tracks, and felt sure they were many days old. The Cashmiries were quite at fault here; they are truly indifferent hunters. We now ascended a steep sharp ridge which gained us admission to a lot of ravines, in which the Yarkandi made sure of a find; but these we traversed with like ill success, and then, having stopped an hour for refreshment, went on to a third favourite haunt, equally empty, and the signs of the same date. While resting on a ridge, we saw a kyang crossing a hill-side behind us: he looked like a large donkey, with a disproportionately large head. The wind being adverse, we could not attempt to do anything with him. The traps and attendants had been ordered up the main valley to the entrance of another gorge, for which we now directed our steps; and, after a tiresome descent, and a long tramp over a shelving flat of some six miles, we reached our camp, much beat, and our anticipations greatly reduced: yet the Yarkandi persisted in the most confident assurances of success, and said we must inevitably find to-morrow. I turned in, in a snug bower which Buddoo had constructed for me in the bushes.
29th August. We were off again, ere the first blush of dawn, and, entering a wide ravine, held our course up it. Numerous tracks of yâk were seen, but none fresh. After two hours' gradual ascent came the pinch, a steep slope up the mountain, on which, to our joy, we met with fresh tracks, unmistakably fresh, and our spirits rose accordingly. Our path lay up a wide ravine, penetrating into the mountain-side, and giving entrance to a wide basin-like indent, on the level bottom of which were extensive patches of grass, on which were plainly visible recent signs of yâk. We crossed a steep rocky ridge, abutting into the basin, and shutting one re-entering angle from view, but, to our infinite chagrin, all was void as before--signs fresh and plentiful. Here we halted for breakfast.
It was now proposed to ascend one side enclosing this basin, and, resting on the summit, examine the adjoining ravines, and wait the probable appearance of yâk, from out some retreat or other, to feed on the grass below us. We climbed accordingly, and found a yâk path leading over the ridge, and fresh signs of their passage. Here we lay down some couple of hours. Looking about, I saw a ravine towards which I felt sure the yâk had gone, from the converging tendency of their footprints, and communicated my ideas to Phuttoo who made an examination, and confirmed my suspicions; and we decided that we would explore that spot after a while. Shortly after came Subhan, all excitement and pleasure; he had from a high point, commanding the said ravine, therein distinctly made out the objects of our search. Now all was bustle and preparation. Subhan described the animals to be so situated that there appeared no reasonable doubt of complete success; and I only thought of how many I should knock over, and told Subhan he must scrutinise the herd, and discover the position of a huge bull whose enormous footprints had been the object of our admiration. We held much sanguine talk of this kind, as we descended towards the prey in expectation. But, alas! it turned out that the game was far away up the ravine, some three miles; that the wind blew strongly straight on them; and there was but the one direct path up to them--no side-slip by which to turn their flanks. But yet, there they were; and, scanning them through my glass, I counted, big and little, sixty-three. There being apparently nothing else for it, we advanced, hoping from the favourable direction in which the clouds moved there might be also a favourable current of wind further up the ravine: so we made the attempt to stalk these wary animals whose power of scent, their principal security, it is said is wonderfully acute and far-reaching. And so we found it. We approached right well, as far as concealment from sight went; but the brutes winded us, and gradually drew away. This leisurely retreat deceived the shikarries who pressed me to pursue, in spite of my repeated assurances that it would be utterly futile. Having hunted the bison in the west of India, I was up to this seeming apathy to our approach.
Subhan, as always, eagerly leading, kept on the advance, until we suddenly viewed the whole herd, closely packed together, moving slowly forward, out of shot. The shikarries would have it that they were not alarmed; so we made an onward move again to gain a rise, whence they hoped my battery might open with effect, though at a long range, on so dense a mass. We gained the stony height, but found the herd again scattered, some still retiring in the distance, others lying down, some feeding at some six hundred yards off, but with a smooth slope separating us, which offered no chance of getting at them. Here we lay behind stones, watching, admiring, and longing. From hence I saw the huge old bull of the enormous foot-prints, carrying a very heavy pair of horns, slowly and, as I thought, feebly descending behind a rise: others, fine fellows, lay down on the rise. We waited long, hoping against hope; till at last evening, growing apace, and the frosty air admonished us that we must make up our minds what to do. I had no covering but the suit I wore, and nothing to eat, so that passing the night here on guard was out of the question. Subhan proposed a dash at the enemy for a chance shot--so like him! I proposed to withdraw quietly, and seek the foe next day; so the decision was left to Moosa who directed the retreat. Back we went; and now a terrible long trudge awaited us, and it was long after dark ere the straggling party following Subhan and self had come in, some quite sick, Mooktoo and the Yarkandi 'hors-de-combat,' and all thoroughly fatigued. I, therefore, proposed to remain in camp to-morrow, and send back for more provisions, on arrival of which in the afternoon we would shift quarters, moving up the mountain near to the place the yâk were left in.
30th August. Moosa returned about 4 P.M.; and as soon as the fasting hunters had cooked some bread, we started for our new quarters which we reached at dusk. We were yet a long way from the yâk ravine, but at any rate two hours nearer. There were no bushes here for shelter, so I selected a hollow trench-like place for my couch, Subhan digging up the ground to soften it; and, on arrival of the traps, I was not long ere I sought the protection of my blankets, first fortifying the inner man with a little well-diluted eau-de-vie, there being no fire, no tea. I rose up once or twice, and looked around on the imposing mountain scenery which the moon lit up with her softly bright clear beams; and again dived into the woolly comforts of my blankets. But ere the night was half spent, a change came over it. I awoke feeling that something unusual was taking place, and lo! the surface of the earth was sheeted with snow, and I was fast disappearing under its fleecy mantle. I luckily had a long felt namba which extended beyond my pillow, covering my head, and I drew the blankets over and round my shoulders, and quite closed myself in. The snow drifting pressed upon me, and kept me warm. But I got too hot from the confinement of my breath, and was forced to stir myself, and open a hole for ventilation; when unluckily moving the namba over my pillow, down came an avalanche of cold snow about my shoulders. Clearing this away as well as I could, I made a hole on one side at which to place my mouth, and once more resigned myself to await events--not, perhaps, thoroughly comfortable, yet enjoying the novelty of the situation. I gave many an anxious thought to my poor attendants whose voices reached me occasionally. Perceiving dawn approaching, through my peep-hole,
August 31st, I at once disencumbered myself of namba and snow, and proceeded to survey the surrounding scene. Everything was buried. My followers looked miserable enough, poor fellows! but there was no real suffering. All was soon recovered, and in marching trim, and we set off for our hunting ground. It was very bad travelling, the natural difficulties being much increased by the melting snow. The wind blew downwards, and we augured favourably of our day's chances. But hardly had we gained the long ravine, where we hoped to find the game, than the wind shifting blew directly upwards. We halted some time hoping for a favourable change, as the clouds, as on the previous day, were sailing towards us rapidly. But we waited in vain: so, there being nothing in sight, we went on upwards, and reached a point whence a general view being obtained revealed bare grounds only. Here we breakfasted in a storm of sleet; and then we spread ourselves out to search for tracks, which appeared to take downwards some two or three miles, then across the high ridge westward; in which direction Moosa and the Yarkandi said there was no knowing were to find the animals. We continued looking for tracks, hoping that some of the yâk might have separated, and gone to the place we searched the other day. For this we pointed, and I had given orders to climb the high ridge intervening, when the wind suddenly shifted, coming down upon us violently with a fall of sleet, and from a quarter that would have given the yâk, if any, our wind. I then said it was useless going on, and the shikarries, dreading the fatigue, cheerfully assented; but there being a yâk's head and horns on the other side, poor Tar-gness, much against his will, was directed to make his way over, and bring the same to camp, we ourselves turning at once in that direction. We reached our bivouac, having passed, in an angle of the torrent's bed, under a precipitous cliff, a number of nâpu horns, none of which animals we have seen.
I ordered the traps to be packed and taken below, intending to go into standing camp to-morrow. Snow had long since disappeared, save on the mountain summits, and the descent was tolerably easy. Soon after our arrival came Tar-gness in great excitement, having seen no less than thirteen yâk, of sizes, in the basin we had intended visiting, when that untoward change of wind made us give up our intention, and return. A consultation decided that Abdoolah should go in for provisions tomorrow, and bring out the shikarries' ponies, and we ourselves resolved to start at 3 A.M. for the yâk.
By the way, I have omitted to mention that Kamal was sent on Thursday with orders that, if on reaching camp he found they had not been able to procure supplies from passing travellers, he was to make the best of his way, with a Bhooti, to Chanloong, and there having got three mds darra, and two mds atta, to bring the same on tattoos with all despatch to meet us; so that with this, and that previously written for, we ought to manage well.
We chatted long at the fire, hoping that our luck was at last turning. I told the shikarries that to-morrow was the first of September, and explained to them our game laws in respect thereof; and I myself really, amid all my disappointments, had a sort of superstitious feeling that this sporting date would be signalised by the slaughter of yâk. Impressing upon the shikarries the necessity of as early a start as possible, not later than 3 A.M., I turned in, and, awaking once or twice, examined my watch by the bright moonlight; the first time it was 12--then, 2--then, 2.30, when I roused myself,
1st September, And was up, and dressed before 3. The moon was beautifully bright, and full, or almost so; our path, therefore, opened plainly before us. It was, however, very cold, and freezing sharp; and the way was long, and the ascent laborious. On reaching the base of the steep slope, leading direct to the basin, we stopped some time; then, slowly struggling upwards, pausing every fifty paces, we gained the upland, the light now becoming dawn well opened. Nothing met our view on attaining the general level of the basin. But there were many dips and hollows: cautiously advancing, we examined them, and they were all empty. Tar-gness was sent up the ridge, and had gained such an elevation as I thought would discover every nook; and, saying so to Subhan, I proposed to move on to the spot where the head and horns, before mentioned, lay. As we moved on, Tar-gness broke into violent gesticulations, and came springing down; and, when we could get an intelligible reply from him, informed us that he had discovered two yâk moving up a hollow near us. Now all was excitement and preparation; guns were uncased, and the shikarries only to the front. The wind was right, and everything seemed such as to ensure success; when, as we stole forward, we saw a yâk on the hill-side over the hollow; another, and another, came in view, moving upwards, cropping a blade of grass here and there, and looking about them. I fully believe they were systematically reconnoitring, having acquired some suspicions. They turned, and three of them lay down on the hill-side. Here was a predicament. We could not stir without certain discovery; so we squatted as patiently as we might. It was bitterly cold, the ground covered with hoar frost. We waited and watched, and watched and waited, when all but one impracticable animal moved down into the hollow. This one, in the most elevated position, commanding a view of the whole plateau, remained watchful, and, I believe, uneasy, every now and then giving an impatient flourish of its bushy tail. All we had yet seen were females. What was to be done? I proposed to station myself in the line of their probable retreat, and send men round to give them the wind. Subhan disapproved, and the other two seemed to have no idea of their own on the subject, trusting all to luck, to 'kizmet,' not even venturing an opinion.
Well, we waited some hours in this icy locality, not being able to stir for cloaks or breakfast. Looking up from a doze, into which all had fallen under the sun's genial influence, I saw yâk moving upwards--one, two, three--then off bounded our persevering sentry, cantering off, whisking her tail, and leading the way over the ridge. Then out came others in succession, to the number of twenty-five, old and young, a fine bull in rear, and took their way up the ridge, disappearing over its crest. This was the ridge running into, and dividing, this plateau; so, as there was a nice grassy flat on the other side, we were charmed with the move, and our improved prospects. Away we went, making the best of our way over the stones, and crossed the spur of the hill, instead of the crest--fatal error of our leader, Subhan--and, gaining the reverse, to our surprise saw nothing. The herd had vanished. We moved along the hill-side, and found the tracks leading into the bight of the bay, as it were; and there, sure enough, was our chase. But the wind was now blowing direct to them, and our wary, active, suspicious foe already indicating alarm, and mischievously elevating her tail. There were only about twelve in view; the others must, therefore, be concealed by the ground, and be somewhere nearer, below us; so we pushed on and down, no concealment possible from the first lot, now much agitated.
Now we opened the others, among them a fine bull. We were some four hundred yards off, and above the animals, but their alarm was so evident that Subhan advised me to fire at the bull; but the brute kept his stern to me. However, waiting, my rifle resting on a stone, he turned, disturbed by the agitated flurry going on around him. I fired, and evidently hit. He thundered down the slope, passing from view, and then coming out of a nullah, his left fore-leg apparently broken, and, by his puffing and roaring, his lungs injured. "He's hit, he's hit, all right," were the exclamations. The herd, with tails aloft, scampered about, and finally halted nigh together, bull and all, some five or six hundred yards off, and I discharged my whole battery at the group, certainly striking one, if not more. Then, away they all careered, the big bull hanging behind, and labouring heavily. They gained the opposite hill-side, and seemed undecided how to act, which way to turn, and broke into two parties, one pausing, the other making backwards along the hill-side to gain the place they had originally come from.
The guns being reloaded, Subhan proposed a chase--he to cut off the lot on the hill-side, we to advance on the other. Away we went best pace, but that very bad. Our lot soon followed the other, the wounded bull limping, and labouring heavily in rear. I sung out to Mooktoo to run and intercept him; but there was no 'go' in Mooktoo. After running a dozen yards, he was as done up as the bull.
Subhan was now seen on our right, gaining a position cutting the path of the retreating foe. He struggles on--the first batch pass him, some two hundred yards off. On, then, comes the second--they go by--and we shout to him to await the bull, lumbering behind. He drops to a position. On comes the huge brute, and bang! bang! go both barrels, only accelerating his flight though he flourishes his tail frantically. Phuttoo and I now make for a point to cut him off, which he divining leaves the herd, and slowly goes straight up the hill, now and again stopping and looking back on his pursuers, his roaring lungs audible a mile off at least. Subhan slowly follows--Oh! how he crawls! I shout to him to follow on, _close_. Mooktoo seems shirking the work, stopping at the foot of the hill. I yell at him, calling him no shikarry, a soor, &c., and, in a frantic state, urge them on. The bull, ever gaining ground upwards, at last disappears over the ridge. Subhan, having gained but half-way, there stops, and halloos Phuttoo down below, and a short conversation takes place. Mooktoo, of course, stops and joins in. I vociferate, and abuse them all. Subhan is asking Phuttoo to send a man with food after him. Now they crawled on, seeming to make no progress, and constantly pausing; and, full half an hour after the bull, Subhan went over the ridge on his tracks--Mooktoo in another half-hour. Phuttoo and I sat down. He said, they must secure the brute, there could be no doubt of it. Having known them fail so often in pursuit of mortally wounded animals, I had my doubts. Phuttoo was sanguine.
Now came up Tar-gness and the coolie with breakfast; the former, remarking on the roaring breath of the bull, which he had heard a mile off, said he was hit in the lungs, and must die. We despatched him also in pursuit, and, when half-way up, he turned to tell us there was a quantity of blood. We waited here till 4 P.M.; and then, believing the hunters would return by another route, whether successful or not, we moved down to camp. The Yarkandi had joined in the pursuit, so we were satisfied on the score of their coming back the best road. We gained the bivouac, and Abdool, soon after, hove in sight. He said, they had as yet received no supplies whatever from passers by, and I now learned that there were but some six seers of corn. I made up my mind to go to the old Yarkandi's village, and there obtain supplies; dined, and remained anxiously looking for the hunters. About six o'clock the Yarkandi came in alone. The bull, he said, had escaped, and the shikarries had stopped behind; he, being cold, had come in; they were, no doubt, following. All our hopes were now at an end. The others came in about seven, looking very woe-begone, Subhan declaring that the bull had been only struck somewhere below the knee, and slightly injured. He had followed him, I can't say how far, and he stopped every now and then to eat grass, and moved away, when gained upon. Whether true or false, it mattered little now. The chase was over, my chance of a yâk ended. I felt, of course, much disappointed, and, sitting with my melancholy group round the fire, discussed my plans of going into the Yarkand territory for supplies. Moosa and the Yarkandi were called into council, and the latter was delighted at the idea of shewing us the way, if ordered, describing his land as one flowing with milk and honey, corn and wine; so we considered the matter settled, and I determined those to go, and the number of horses, as also the formation of our depôt.
2nd September. Sunday. I allowed the sun to shed his first ruddy beams abroad, ere emerging from my retreat, my coverings white and hard with frost. Taking a stroll to look at my nag, I passed some swampy ground, out of which silently sprung a snipe, a true snipe, and, settling again, permitted a close inspection. His colour and markings were duller than those of the English bird--like the Indian--and his bill somewhat shorter. There were snippets also here, so I could compare them. I also saw a couple of teal; these, with some hares and chakores, are all the small game seen; except, by-the-bye, the gigantic chakore which are in numbers on the mountains. One day I saw, I should think, from one spot a dozen coveys, each numbering nine or ten birds, fly over; they appear as large as a full grown hen.
3rd September. We returned to standing camp, and found all well. I had the amount of flour and corn correctly ascertained, and found that we had of the former ten days' supply, with economy, and five and half mds. of the latter; quite enough for our wants, until we should meet with the stock ordered out. I had no idea that we were so well off in point of rations; and now came the necessity of again taking into consideration the propriety of my contemplated expedition into an enemy's country. The actual necessity no longer existed, and although I would have given much to have carried out this plan, and obtained a glimpse of the Yarkand territory, the question of right or wrong, after mature deliberation, was given against it. There was the uncertainty of the extension of leave, and the trip to and fro would extend over twelve days. I should have no valid reason to urge for not returning now. I had food for my party, and my horses were sufficiently in condition to commence the return route, excepting two, which from bad galls would not be well for a month or six weeks. I had, therefore, no justification for the gratification of my curiosity, and accordingly gave orders for the return march to-morrow morning, deciding to take the route up the valley we had just come down, thinking that there must be some good reason for so many caravans as we had observed taking it, and our experience of the other left anything but pleasing recollections.
All was now preparation. A caravan being reported at hand, I sent Abdoolah and the shikarries to endeavour to coax the merchants out of some atta and corn. They returned laughing, the newcomers having fled on their appearance, leaving their property to its fate. They were soon recalled, and their alarm dispelled. They are hajis all, and journeying to Mecca. In the evening they sent a deputation to pay their respects, bringing with them a dish of rice, and, with Moosa's assistance, I conversed with them. They are quite in ignorance of the nature of the countries through which they have to pass, and the length of the journey; but they know that the greater part is under the rule of the 'saheb-logue,' and, therefore, feel sure of good treatment, and prefer this route, in consequence, to any other. The justice and liberality of the 'saheb-logue,' they say, is proverbial in the most distant provinces of Asia: they, as have others, expressed a desire to see their countries in possession of the English. They requested my sanction to their travelling in my company, and, of course, I acquiesced. With regard to the supplies requested, they replied, that they had only brought their own stock, but that we should be together, and should I run out, then they would supply me. This was satisfactory.
In the evening I summoned the Yarkandi to receive 'backsheesh.' He had toiled hard, and done his best, to obtain sport: he was delighted with two Co.'s rupees, and made a profound salaam, with more grace in it than I could have imagined him capable of. The Yarkandies I have seen are very like Europeans, quite as fair, the climate considered, and exhibiting great variety of feature and style. This man had the most decided snub nose I ever saw, completing a good-humoured face.
All is prepared for the return to-morrow. What a distance I have come, and through what a horrid country, only to meet with disappointment! And the prospect of retracing my steps amid such dreary scenes is not cheering. I have added to my geographical or topographical knowledge at any rate, and shall be the first European, I believe, who has penetrated thus far, and returned to tell it--should it please God to spare me.