Across the Roof of the Worltl, 



snow line between the valleys of Kok Terek and Agiass, whence 

 I worked along the top and down through waist-deep snow 

 into the nullah where I had so often been before. The ground 

 was in many places fearfully steep and we slithered and blundered 

 about on the treacherous surface, sometimes almost buried in 

 the powdery snow, but finally getting down into the ravine on 

 the far side. But they had vanished, goodness only knows 

 where, and I never saw them again nor that head which was a 

 perfect dream. 



It was my last day after ibex, and as I wended my way 

 back to camp on the other side of the river amidst a clump of 

 pines I felt the time had come when I must leave the Thian 

 Shan, the grassy slopes, and the sombre pine forests, and resume 

 once more the trail and trek hard for the Great Altai Mountains, 

 many hundreds of miles to the north. I had done well since 

 my arrival in the Thian Shan, and the reward had indeed been 

 an ample one. 



It was now October 25th, and I reluctantly decided to 

 leave the Agiass Valley for Kulja and the far north. Much 

 as I should have liked to stay on for a few more days in the hope 

 of getting yet another record head I felt it would not do to tarry 

 longer, since much still remained to be done and the first signs 

 of winter had already appeared. So we put on a big blaze that 

 night, my last camp fire in the Agiass, and the next morning, in 

 a snowstorm and a bitter cutting wind, trekked on down the 

 valley. The skies were heavy and overcast, and thick clouds of 

 mist obscured the heights on the eastern side whereon I had 

 spent many happy days in pursuit of the wary ibex. 



