Antlers 



path, the only semblance of a path in these 

 regions. Up hill and down dale we toil, but 

 usually on the knife-edge, for it is necessary to 

 keep an eye on the country on both sides. That 

 sambhar are plentiful in the locality is evidenced 

 by the numbers of young sal and pine saplings 

 ruthlessly girdled or barked by these animals 

 whilst rubbing the velvet off their horns or from 

 pure destructiveness. 



We suddenly round a corner, and there, stand- 

 ing in the path, is a doe sambhar. At first she 

 does not appear to notice us, and we stand like 

 rocks, for it is too late to drop in our tracks. 

 Soon, however, her gaze is concentrated in our 

 direction, her ears flick forward, and again comes 

 that startled, warning bark, and she is off in 

 a wild, mad plunge down the steep khud, soon 

 disappearing into a patch of forest. 



This means another trek, for there is still hope 

 up here where the stags are so little disturbed 

 that they may be found feeding on the open grassy 

 sides of the little sheltered valleys until two to 

 three hours after the sun has risen. 



We change our direction, however, and strike 

 down the khud on the opposite side of the saddle 

 to that taken by the doe, and this means a toil- 

 some climb up the opposite hill-side. 



Towards the bottom of the little valley the 

 slopes of the hills are covered with a fairly dense 

 piece of forest with a stream tinkling down its 



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