ruptly down into them, carry the most vivid colours of every tint except green, and present a more varied colouring than that of a forest in autumn. But it is as impossible to describe the Pangong Tso in words, as for a brush to portray it on canvas. It is simply magnificent, and the sight of it repays all the time and toil spent in getting to it. I was determined to have a swim in it, and did so, with a solar topee to keep off the rays of the sun, which beat down in fierce heat. The water was somewhat salt and mighty cold, and I could not induce any one to join me. At Shushul H. and I parted for a time, and I made for a small lake, about four or five miles in circumference, and about ten miles off, called the Mirpa Tso, in a most desolate region, where I was told I should find Oves. After hunting about for a day or two, I came across five rams, but the ground was rolling and undulating, though steep, and they were wary. Sheep were on the move all day, feeding and lying down alternately for a few hours at a time, and this little flock at last lay down at the foot of a steep incline. Leaving the coolie with the basket, with strict injunctions not to move, my old Tartar and I tried a stalk, and managed to get within about half a mile, after which it was a case of crawling on one's stomach inch by inch. At last we got within about 300 yards of them, and above them, when suddenly we saw them galloping straight out

us.

into the plain below Cursing our luck, we looked back, and there, a mile or more away, silhouetted on the skyline, was that infernal coolie. I felt as if I could have shot him dead. We were over the same ground early next morning, but could see nothing of them, though in the afternoon we came across a small ram with some ewes and young. They were a little distance off, going up a hill, but as they had evidently got our wind, I chanced the shot and broke his hind leg. As they got nearer the top, I saw a ewe stop, and presently roll over. My bullet after breaking the leg of the ram had splintered, and three small pieces of lead had struck her in the throat. She had a good head for a female, and was welcome meat. It was too late to follow them, but I got on to the trail next morning and saw an incredible piece of tracking. How many miles we went I don't know; but for six mortal hours did those two Tartars keep on the track of that ram-up and down hill, over hard rocks, on scarce which, even when they tried to show me, could I detect a mark of any sort. We never saw them again, but as we were coming back descried the other five rams miles away below us in a valley. It is almost incredible the distance you can see, and hear too, in that dry, clear, rarefied atmosphere. We made for and found them next morning, but in ground where we could not get at them. They were feed

one of

ing slowly up a valley, and after a long wearisome detour we got to the head of it, and lay for some hours watching and waiting. There was not a breath of air, as a lot of kiang came up to within 50 yards of us and never winded us. Fortunately they moved off, and the Oves had fed up to within 400 yards of us, when my old shikari touched me and gave a sort of gesture of despair. I did not understand until he looked up and behind us and pointed to the sky, and I felt the very slightest puff of wind. There was the lightest of small clouds away up in the sky, the size of a man's hand, but it was enough. Five minutes later the heads of those Oves went up; round they went, and galloped down the valley. Luckily they only went about a mile and then stopped, and, though uneasy, lay down. We had a long, rough, trying tramp round and over the hill, and, sinking the wind on them, crawled to where we thought they ought to be below us. As I peeped up I saw the top of a rounded horn within 150 yards. I was a bit blown, and my heart was in my mouth, so I lay for a minute to steady myself; then I wriggled another yard, and as I did so the big ram got on his feet and quietly stretched himself broadside on. I heard the thud of the bullet striking, and was on my legs in a second; he started at a gallop, but had not gone ten yards before my second bullet

struck, and he rolled over. The two bullets were within an inch of one another, just behind the shoulder; either would have killed him, but when he started I dared not risk the chance of my first Ovis and a big ram. It was a pity, for I might have had another. As it was, they galloped straight away from me into the plain, and before I could slip in other cartridges were too far off for any certainty, though I was mighty "convanient" to another. to another. My Tartar shikari, whom I had always thought a most phlegmatic old gentleman, who seemed to do nothing but count his beads, turn his prayer - wheel, and knit all day, went fairly wild: he danced and he shouted, he slapped me on the back, and ended by embracing the poor old dead ram. I was very pleased, for an old ram takes a bit of getting.

As I was then short of time, I moved on next day towards the Indus, and in a couple of days more reached the small Tartar village of Nimmo on its banks. Here I was told that there was another sahib away to the east in the Hanle district; so I settled to follow a large valley running south, out of which, I was informed, ran a nullah which usually held both nyan (Ovis ammon) and napoo(burhel). The Indus is here quite a small mountain stream, and as the water was low we had no difficulty in crossing with our yaks and baggage. About four

up a very steep, narrow ravine, almost impassable from névé and tumbled rocks, sending my camp some five miles down the valley to the entrance to another ravine. I had a terrible climb of some four miles to the top of that ravine, when it opened out into a fairly broad valley with huge rolling hills on either side. It was a very wild day, with snow and hail showers, and the wind coming apparently from all quarters at the same time. We descried a flock of napoo a long way off, up on the hills to the left, and tried a stalk, but they quickly got our wind and crossed the valley to the other side. My old Tartar sat down and refused to go on, saying no man could stalk them in such ground on such a day. However, I said I was going if I went by myself, so he had to give way, and we trudged down across the valley and up and over the other hill. We made out the flock in a small nullah, feeding up and towards us, but it was terribly flat open ground, and we had great trouble in crawling to within about 200 yards of the head of it, and ensconcing ourselves behind a few big stones which fortunately happened to be there. The wind, too, was kind, and the napoo passed us feeding quietly at a walk. There was one very fine old ram, and several good-sized heads, but the biggest was in the middle of the flock, and I could not get a good view of him for some time. At last he

but as I pulled the trigger he turned half round with his rump to me, and I hit him in the flank. My second barrel took another one with a good head a bit low and far back. The old ram galloped on with the flock for about 200 yards, then stopped and looked back. I chanced a couple of shots without effect, beyond inducing him to follow on after the flock, which went uphill towards some high peaked snow in the distance. The other ram turned to the left and went away by himself along the hillside, a sure sign that he was very badly wounded. By this time it was very late, and a heavy cloud, which I had been watching, burst on us with a terrific downpour of hail; so we turned and made our way back to the head of the nullah. It was then nearly dark. The hail (fortunately in our backs) cut like bullets, the sole of my right boot was was worn right away, and I had to tie my foot in a handkerchief. How I got to the bottom of that long nullah of sharp rocks and slippery ice I don't know, for it was at least four miles, and pitch dark before we got halfway. Thank God the hail had stopped. When we got to the bottom, we saw a light in the distance, and my shikari turned gleefully and said: "Here are the Sahib's tents; they have stopped here instead of going down the valley." As we got nearer he said: "No, they are not the Sahib's." I could hardly think they were not, as, with the exception of

H., who had gone in another direction, and one other Sahib said to be at Hanle, some 30 miles away over the hills, there was not, as far as I had heard, another white man in Thibet. However, on going up to the tents, I found the Sahib from Hanle, who had come round on purpose to shoot the nullah I was in. I was deadI was deadbeat, having started before daylight and covered a lot of ground, with but very little food, only one chupattee. The Sahib was Preston of the 73rd, who bade me a hearty welcome and gave me half-a-glass of whisky in an enormous tumbler of water, a hot chupattee, and some tinned butter. Ye gods, what a meal I thought it! and it put new life into me, for I had been out of all liquors for three weeks, and butter for two months; but I still had my old briar-root and some black Cavendish, and before I had had half a dozen puffs at it on the top of the whisky was myself again.

Preston tried hard to make me stop for the night, but my shikari said we could get quicker and easier on to the ground we had just left from the nullah where my tents ought to be, so I had a long weary trudge of about six miles in the moonlight, and did not reach my camp till nearly midnight. A very hard and unsuccessful day. Preston promised to move his camp down to mine by 9 A.M. next morning, and go up the nullah to look for the wounded napoo. We got on to some high rolling hills on the opposite

side of the valley from where I had left them, but discovering five Oves in the valley decided to try for them. They were far off and feeding very slowly up the valley, so we got as far down as we dared on the rounded crest of the hill, and lying side by side on our backs, with our feet downhill, so that by just raising our heads and sliding inch by inch as they came nearer and closer under us we could keep them in sight, we waited, calculating they would have to pass within about 200 yards. It was weary work, the sun above us and the shale on which we lay both very hot, though the wind was icy. However, we had much to talk about of interest to us both. We had been there about an hour and a half when Preston clutched me by the leg with a grip of iron, and whispered, "Look there!" I did, and within fifty yards I saw the forehead and eyes, surmounted by the arched curved horn, of a nice ram's head. "Shoot!" whispered Preston. It was my nullah and my first shot. "For God's sake keep still," said I. The ram and we were motionless. Getting my rifle with almost imperceptible motion between my toes, I waited, hoping he would move up another foot in his curiosity; but he knew better, and remained fixed as a statue. At last I could not stand it, nor Preston's whispers of "Shoot," which was impossible. possible. With the quickest of bounds I was on my feet, but he was quicker still, and all I saw was something like

the scut of a rabbit flash in my eye. Running forward, I could see nothing, but on getting lower, where the hill dipped sufficiently to give us a view of the valley, we saw him rejoin the others in the bottom, and all scamper away up the opposite hill about 400 yards off. Preston and I banged away, and about the fourth shot I broke his hind leg, and he went away with the others, up towards the same snowy heights the napoo had made for the day before. But the shades of night were falling fast, and we had a long way to get back, so we had to give it up for that day.

I had promised Preston a feast that night, as I had carefully hoarded a pint of champagne and a small tin tin of red currant jelly to eat with my first Ovis, of which I had still got the saddle. He produced some tinned delicacies, and also half a bottle of whisky, and half a bottle of rum, of which he kindly said I might have my choice. "The rum," said I; for up there rum is the only spirit to drink, just as the strongest and blackest of tobacco is the only thing worth smoking. Our cooks put their heads together, and gave us a real dinnerwonderful fellows! After dinner, having meted out to Preston about a small liqueur glass of the rum he had given me, with some hot water, and the same to myself, I put the bottle alongside a bottle of water against the little wooden bar under the table. Whilst discussing the country I said,

"Give me that map off the bed." He leant over, touched the table, and I heard a clink, and looked down: the rum bottle was smashed and the contents in the ground. I think I wept. It was worth a guinea a drop!

Preston had got five small Oves heads Hanle way, and was rather pleased; but when he saw my old ram's head he was filled with envy, and admitted that one good one was worth any number of small ones, and declared that he would stay on till the last moment to try and get one. He was working towards Leh, which took him through the nullah where the wounded animals were, and promised to look for them, though a coolie we had sent out that day could find no trace of them.

I had to be off south to meet H., and we parted next morning, to meet again in six months, drawn together in the first heat of the Kadir Cup, which Vivian won for me, and I never saw him again after that. He was a real good sportsman and charming fellow.

Following the valley down, and crossing a high pass, I came to the Tso Morari, which is one of the highest known lakes in the world, being 15,000 feet above sea-level, and is about fifteen miles long by five or six broad. Lying as it does with its deep-blue waters surrounded by mountains, with snow low down on them, and more precipitous than I had yet seen in Thibet, the lake has a grand and most imposing appearance; but it is in a most trying and