About two miles on the way
we came to a slip in the mountain-side, and just as we scrambled,
with some difficulty, across this, our foremost shikaree suddenly
dropped down like a stone, and motioning us to follow his example,
he stealthily pointed us out four little animals, which he called
"markore," grazing at the bottom of a ravine. Putting our sights to
about 250 yards, we fired both together, with the best intentions, but
indifferent results; for they all scampered off apparently untouched,
and we again resumed our march.
Our encamping ground we found situated among a shady grove of
fir-trees, with a mountain-torrent running beneath, bridged over, as
far as we could see, with dingy-looking fields of snow and ice. Here,
in the middle of June; with snow at our feet, above us, and around
us, we pitched our tent, and had breakfast, and laid our plans for a
search for game to-morrow. Though the wind blew cold and chilly off the
snows, we soon found that the midday sun still asserted his supremacy,
and our faces and hands soon bore witness to the fierceness of the
trial of strength between the two.
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