IBEX NOT AT HOME 123 



maps. The amende, however, has since been made by 

 re-christening it with an Englishman's name — Godwin 

 Austen. I went up the stony ridge to L(5sar peak, where 

 a survey cairn had been erected — a bare pole sticking out 

 of it. This is where the ibex should have been, but were 

 not — bad luck to them! Their tracks in the snow, 

 droppings and hair about the rocks, were plentiful enough ; 

 but they were not at home, and at seven o'clock we came 

 down to camp. No bear was anywhere within sight, and 

 we overlooked a good many miles of country from our 

 points of vantage. I found the camp in a most awkward 

 spot on the steep hillside just below the ridge, and a thin 

 stream of water running past my blankets. The ground 

 was so steep that I found it difficult to eat my dinner in 

 any position. 



Up at 5 A.M., and off to the ridge again, along which I 

 went towards the head of the valley, carefully searching 

 both the Hcint and Bagtour nalas. It was a splendid 

 morning; a bracing cold breeze swept along the open 

 downs, which were carpeted with flowers, especially a 

 yellow kind like the marigold ; they were so plentiful and 

 grew so thickly that I crushed a dozen of them at every 

 step. I enjoyed this morning's walk exceedingly, though 

 we saw nothing. The beauty of the scene so impressed 

 me, that a bear, had he come in sight, might have been 

 allowed to pass. Such surroundings are not conducive to 

 bloodthirsty thoughts. Suddenly we walked nearly over a 

 hen ram-chakor (the hen of the snow-cock) and her 

 brood of six chickens nestling among the flowers. The 

 chicks were fluffy, and half the size of my fist, but they 

 could run ; they ran a few yards, crouched, and disappeared 

 among the flowers. The mother, too, ran, but limped and 

 fluttered along in such helpless fashion that Jamala, the 

 breakfast coolie, bolted after her with outstretched hand, 



