A TARTAR HAMLET. 325 



negligence on the part of an Oms Ammon we could only 

 attribute to his ailment. He moved off very slowly, so I 

 hastened his departure with a bullet ; and as on examin- 

 ing the place where I had shot at him we found a good- 

 sized tuft of his hair on the ground, I must have shaved 

 him pretty closely. We now made for the spot where 

 Puddoo had arranged for the provender to be brought to, 

 and after appeasing our hunger, proceeded to try fresh 

 ground. No game was found on it, however, which was 

 not surprising, as we detected poachers there in the shape 

 of two grey wolves (here called " chanko "), one of which 

 I sent limping away with a broken hind-leg. By the time 

 we got back to camp in the evening, I felt as if I had 

 done perhaps a little more than enough work since early 

 morning. 



Our camp was moved next day to Dongpu, the first 

 inhabited place we had met with since leaving the village 

 of Niti. A Tartar hamlet and small gompa (monastery) 

 the latter coloured red perched along the crest of 

 a pale-yellowish low ridge, of which the crumbling half- 

 dilapidated houses seemed to form a part. A rapid turbid 

 stream of melted snow (the Sakchu) wound along below 

 it, and some terraced fields in the vicinity looked so arid 

 and stony that it was difficult to conceive how anything 

 could ever grow there. The village looked utterly dreary 

 and forsaken, a few decrepit old men and wizened hags 

 being its sole inhabitants, the rest being absent in their 

 cainps, grazing their flocks in the wilderness around. 

 Altogether, the place and its surroundings looked so 

 dreamy and unreal in the quivering reflected heat and 

 dazzling white glare of noon, that it seemed almost as 

 though it belonged to some other and less beautiful 

 world. 



From here we worked over ground where Puddoo had 

 made certain of finding Oves Ammon, but unfortunately we 

 found it occupied by flocks of Oves Tartar and goats instead. 



