A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



you can make a short cut over a Pass into the Miru 

 Valley ; but as at this time I had not heard of the 

 burhel, and was told that the road was deep in 

 snow, I did not attempt it, but continued my way 

 along the main road to Upshi, at which point we 

 were to leave the Indus Valley. Here, for the first 

 time, I saw those heaps of horns, so common in 

 Ladakh, and which I was so often to scan anxiously 

 in later days, to get a clue as to which game was to 

 be found in the vicinity. 



These piles usually consist of a cairn of stones 

 with a pole stuck in the middle of it, from which 

 flutter age-worn and tattered rags of linen or cloth ; 

 round the base of this pole are heaped the horns of 

 the domestic yak and goat, as well as those of the 

 wild animals found in the neighbourhood. These 

 latter, as a rule, are not from the heads of beasts 

 that have been shot by the villagers, for your 

 Ladakhi is no sportsman, but have been picked up 

 in the ravines, or by the edge of some stream which 

 has washed them down from the higher grounds, 

 and have probably belonged to some animal that 

 has died from natural causes, been swept down by 

 an avalanche, or devoured by wolves, wild dogs, or 

 snow-leopards. Many of these horns are coloured 

 red, a fact which, though it may add to their virtues 

 in the sight of a Lama, rather detracts from their 

 appearance as a horn ! 



The natives told me that all the animals whose 

 horns are thus collected and placed upon the sacred 



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