274 THE UPPER BASPA 



everything ready for a start in five minutes. The coolie 

 took a load and made for camp, whence he would send up 

 others for the rest. 



We went higher up, to the base of the mighty peak 

 above, on a last attempt to find the big rams. We spent 

 hours skirting giant crags, passing over grassy slopes and 

 snow-beds alternately, but at last gave it up in despair. 

 There were no signs of game, neither fresh nor old. I 

 came to the reluctant conclusion that shooting in the Baspa 

 valley was a delusion and a snare, at least at this time of 

 the year, and was sorry for having wasted my leave in it. 

 I broke my good old alpenstock in getting down a snow- 

 bank : a faithful friend in many a ticklish place was that 

 thin and elastic bamboo. On the way down we picked up 

 the skull of a barhal ram, with horns 24 inches round the 

 curve : they were bleached and worn by the weather, and 

 must have been lying on that grassy slope for years. I 

 came down to camp so disgusted and disappointed that 

 I had no appetite for breakfast. I felt dyspeptic and 

 down-in-the-mouth, and had also a sore throat — the only 

 results of my trip up above. 



There was a heavy snowfall during the night. All the 

 valley and hills got a new mantle, and the night scene 

 under a brilliant moon, after the storm, was beautiful. 

 The opposite hillsides were stencilled out in fantastic 

 patterns, the open spaces intensely white, the hollows in 

 shadow intensely black. The silence over all gave the 

 finishing touch. 



The time having arrived, we made serious advances to 

 Anparh on the subject of the journey into Tibet. I was 

 resolved to waste no more time in this valley, and, as a 

 good deal of my leave remained, I determined to attempt 

 the pass at the head of the Baspa, and have a peep at 

 least into Tibet. My present position at the head of the 



