to be a villain, distrusted him accordingly. This
ill-feeling culminated at Bookchang in a request from
both parties to be allowed to return ; we were obliged,
however, to discountenance this idea pretty strongly,
much as we should have liked to dispense with the
services of several of the men.
Ram Singh here left us for a few days, as he wished
to survey a portion of the Aksai Chin or White Desert,
which lies to the north of the Lanak La.
Our sheep were rapidly diminishing in numbers, so
the following day I determined to take a roundabout
way across the spurs in the hope of finding something
to shoot, and accordingly left the caravan which was
to make its way direct to our next halting-place.
Within an hour of leaving camp I discovered a fine
herd of antelope grazing in the bed of a nullah, but
in such a position that it was evident they could not
be reached by stalking. I could get no nearer than
400 yards, so lying down, waited in the hope that they
would feed towards me ; presently I saw a small, dark
object moving on the farther side of the antelope and
gradually approaching. With the aid of the glasses I
discovered this to be the head of my friend Hargreaves,
whom I had left with the caravan, as he had been
suifering from fever the night before. He had seen
the herd from the road, however, and the sportsman’s
instincts overcoming the weakness of the invalid, had
started on a stalk on his own account.
I speedily perceived that he, too, could get no
nearer, and that as the bucks showed no inclination
to move, I should have to make a bold attack across
the open. Adopting this course, I got to within
300 yards before my presence was noticed. The herd
then became alarmed and took to flight, but a foolish
halt on their part and a lucky shot on mine, resulted
in my bringing down a fine beast carrying 24-inch
horns. The carcase was strapped across the riding-
pony, and a start was then made to rejoin the caravan.
On arriving at the place previously fixed on for our
camp, the men were found wandering about the country
searching for water, as the spring beside which we had
halted in the previous year was quite dried up.
No water being found, the tents were pitched close
to two hills, known as Tobomorpo, whence the stronger
ponies were despatched to fetch ice and snow from the
neighbouring mountains.
We were now encamped on Soomjeling Plain which
stretches away to the east for nearly eighty-five miles.
I t lies at a height of 17,500 feet, has an average width
of about eight miles and is bounded on the north and
south by jagged mountain ranges, the southern covered
with snow, while the lowlands are dotted with salt and
fresh water lakes.
Within comparatively recent times the entire valley
formed one vast inland sea, of which the ancient shores
are distinctly visible far up the mountain - sides;
indeed, so clearly are the old beaches defined in certain
parts, that it appears at first sight as if the water had
only disappeared within the last few years, whilst in
many places the remains of fresh-water molluscs are to
be found. With the exception of the hardy boortsa
and a wiry kind of grass, there is very little vegetation
on the plain, but on the slopes of the hills other grasses
and various mountain plants are to be found in
abundance.
The red hills of Tobomorpo form prominent landmarks
in the plain ; lines of stones, used by the nomads
for laying antelope snares, run from them in all directions.
In September, men from Ladak, Rundore and
Rudok meet here for the purpose of barter, employ