CHAPTEE XVII 



THE UPPEE BASPA 



Bad weatlier— A plurality of fethers— " Garokchs "— The village god— How 

 he M-as propitiated— Proceed to the upper valley— My lirst barhal-stalk 

 —A "bootless" tramp— A good shot— Anparh, the shikari, is not 

 wasteful— The side valleys of the Upper Baspa— Dangerous pathway— A 

 stone-shoot — Narrow escape of my servant— Balti coolies behave well— 

 A chance at a ram— A good shot— The wily ram shelves himself— 

 Yakub's ascent after lawful mutton— The ram is perverse— Halaled at 

 last— "Never again," says Yakub— A grand panorama— Anparh's 

 tactics— Temperature of the valley— Heavy snowstorm — Elevation of 

 the camp— Of the Gugerang Pass— Tibetans and their sheep— An ugly 

 S2iecimen of humanity— I fall ill— Uncertain weather continues— 

 Flowers peep out with doubting hearts — Indisposition, blue devils, 

 collapse — A quick recovery. 



It snowed during the night, and next morning all the 

 valley was white and the tents covered. At six o'clock 

 the thermometer marked 36°. The bad weather was 

 unfortunate, as it delayed my progress, but it had this 

 advantage, that it would drive the game lower down, and 

 stalking would be a much easier business. It began to 

 snow again at half-past seven, but I arranged with the 

 garokchs (priest) to go with me after barhal ; he was 

 the son of the man that M. recommended me to take. 

 The father went out with my friend when he came up 

 here last year, and I was informed that he was dead, but 

 the priest now told me that that was another father ! This 

 puzzled me a good deal, and inspired my Musalman ser- 

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