A Hunting Trip in India 



were getting very sore. It was very hard 

 work going after the gorals. The bears offered 

 easier stalking, and, like our American black 

 bear but unlike our grizzly, they didn't show 

 ficrht. The climbinor was awful work. The 

 stones and grass-shoes combined bruised and 

 skinned the soles of my feet, so that I could 

 not get relief without putting them in clarified 

 butter and then keeping them up in the air. 

 Accordingly I tried resting for a day, and 

 meant to rest the following day too; but 

 could not forbear taking a four hours' stroll 

 along the banks of the brawling, snow-fed 

 river, and was rewarded by shooting a surow 

 — a queer, squatty, black antelope, about the 

 size of a Rocky Mountain white goat and with 

 similar horns. The next day I rested again, 

 hoping my feet would get better. Instead 

 they got worse, and I made up my mind that, 

 as they were so bad, I might as well get some 

 hunting anyhow, so off I tramped on the 27th 

 for another all-day jog. It would be difficult 

 to describe the pain that my feet gave me all 

 day long. However, it was a real sporting 

 day. I suffered the tortures of the damned, 

 but I got two gorals and one tahr— a big species 

 of goat with rather small horns — and then hob- 



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