A TEDIOUS MARCH 199 



Ages ; the fatal axe would have completed the picture. 

 Having- packed the meat and head of the kotchkor 

 on our saddles, we started at 2 p.m. towards our next 

 presumed camping ground. The heat was almost 

 unendurable as our ponies struggled over the stony 

 tableland and across numerous rocky ravines. On our 

 way we came across the two young rams, still search- 

 ing for their lost companion, but no others were to 

 be seen. At 6 p.m. we finally caught sight of our 

 tents, low down in the valley, pitched near a broad, 

 marshy stretch, about three miles from the junction 

 of the Suok and Kobdo rivers. We were obliged 

 to make a dtHour in order to avoid getting stuck in 

 the bog, and reached camp as darkness was setting 

 in. The ladies and Littledale greeted my return, 

 and admired my well-earned trophy. The march 

 along the steppe, they told me, had been so trying 

 for the horses, owing to the extreme heat, that they 

 had been obliged to stop before their intended 

 destination, which was the Kobdo River. We sat 

 down to dinner in the best of spirits, little knowing 

 the difficulties that lay before us. This was to be 

 our last successful day for a considerable length of 

 time. A series of long tedious marches up the 

 valley of the Kobdo, through a gameless country, 

 now awaited us, till after many a struggle we decided 



