242 BIG GAME SHOOTING 



called, to hunt in his country. For some years, 

 however, this beautiful hunting ground has been 

 closed, owing to the crass stupidity of a young 

 officer who went there to do some work for the 

 Geological Survey. 



On May 12 I left Mussoori, where I had laid in 

 a supply of stores, and with my camp kit consisting 

 of an 8-feet square single fly-tent for self, smaller 

 one for servants, camp bed, chair, and table took 

 the road from Mussoori on foot with about twelve 

 coolies, and dropped down the long spur to Teree, 

 where the chief of the native state of that name 

 resides. I then proceeded up the pilgrim road which 

 leads to Badrinath, up the Alaknanda river, the chief 

 tributary of the Ganges. It is a beautiful valley, but 

 until I made six or eight marches on my way I found 

 it very hot. The road all the way was dotted with 

 Hindoo pilgrims, and at intervals sheds and shelters 

 were put up for them, where they herded together 

 like sheep in a pen. Although I admired them 

 much for the patient endurance with which they put 

 up with the hardships of travel, hardships which 

 caused the death of a good many, I was very glad 

 when I passed Badrinath, where their shrine was 

 situated, and had the rest of the road to myself. 



Fourteen days took me to Gumsali, on the Tibetan 

 frontier. Here I obtained yaks to carry my baggage, 

 and a couple of hunters, Bootias, as they are called 

 (although they have nothing to do with Bootan), 

 and started off for the Niti Pass (about 18,000 feet 

 above the sea). I got over this obstacle without 



