rest—if so, his plans were rudely disturbed, for owing
to the death of one of the hired ponies each individual
load was slightly increased.
We now struck due east towards a likely-looking
spot in the rugged range of mountains, finding an
excellent pass, which subsequently brought us into a
great stony plain. Ram Singh and I, accompanied by
the faithful Soonam Sirring, climbed an isolated mountain
for the purpose of plane-tabling. The ascent was a
trying one, over loose, sharp limestone chips, but from
the top a fine view was obtained of the whole of Shemen
Tso, lying in glassy stillness below.
In the opposite direction, the men and ponies, mere
specks in the distance, could be seen slowly wending
their way across a plain teeming with herds of kiang.
Many of these animals, curious as to our identity,
approached to within fifty yards of the caravan, and
then wheeling and tearing madly away, disappeared in
clouds of dust. So numerous were these beasts that
we christened this flat stretch of country “ Kiang
Plain. Farther on, a herd of about forty gazelle were
met with, slaking their thirst in a tiny stream of fresh
water, and though their flight was precipitous, one was
induced to stay to provide a meal for the hungry men.
On June 30th an attempt was made to get across
the mountains which barred our way to the north-east,
but after climbing many hills and clambering down
again on the opposite side, we found ourselves very
little better off than when we started. I then determined
to ascend a lofty hill with the object of seeing
how the land lay, and from the summit discovered a
passage to the east which promised well. On my return
to the camp, I found that a visitor had arrived in the
person of a champa or Tibetan nomad. He was about
five feet in height, and only half clad in filthy, bloodstained
sheepskin garments; his hair was unkempt
and matted with dirt and grease ; in his girdle of rope
was stuck a ridiculous, rusty old sword. His face wore
a sort of half-witted expression, and altogether he
presented a most deplorable spectacle. Frequent bowing
and cringing showed us that his intentions were
pacific.
After imbibing much tea, we found out that he
formed one of a party of five—three men and two
women ; their village was eighteen marches distant,
and they had come to this valley to hunt and trap.
They obtained their living by this means, drying and
selling the flesh of any animals caught to their village
people, though up to the present they had had little
luck with any beasts except kiang. We presented him
with a little tea, sugar and suttoo,1 and so gained the
further information that his party possessed eight yaks
which they would be willing to lend us for three
marches; accordingly, at dusk he left us to collect
these animals, one of our men going with him.
At daybreak neither the champa nor our man had
returned, so the start was postponed for an hour. The
country was again deep in snow, and our troubles were
intensified on discovering that the road five miles
farther on turned more and more to the south-west;
seeing that this track would be of little benefit to us,
we changed our course and made direct for a slight dip
in the mountains to the north.
On approaching this ascent, a baby antelope crouching
in the snow was nearly trodden upon ; it had
probably been placed there by its mother, so as to
escape our notice. Every effort was made to effect a
capture by driving it into a corner, but though it could
not have been more than a day old, it succeeded in
1 Suttoo= ground barley.