SNOW-SLOPES. 117 



soiled snow and ddhris, marked the course of avalanches that 

 had recently swept down from the towering heights into the 

 blue depths beneath. Not even among the finest scenery of 

 the Alps have I ever seen anything to surpass this view in 

 beauty, or to equal it in grandeur. 



But whilst I have been admiring the prospect, Eamzan 

 has made good use of the glass, and has espied a herd of 

 ibex far away among the crags above. After planning our 

 stalk we commence working towards them, but the ground 

 we have to get over is in many places so difficult that we 

 are several hours in approaching them. We are constantly 

 employed in cutting steps in the hard slippery snow, where 

 we are often obliged to cross steep fields of it, and on which 

 the result of a slip might be unpleasantly doubtful. After 

 a time, however, one gets accustomed to such places. 

 Moreover, they often at first appear worse than they really 

 are, for if the crust is hard and the notches well cut, a 

 fair cragsman, with a little care, is almost as safe as though 

 he were walking along " the shady side of Pall Mall," if his 

 nerves would only allow him to believe so. But there are 

 certain conditions of these snow-slopes when crossing them 

 becomes ticklish work. I have never heard of the rope 

 being used by sportsmen in the Himalayas, as game is not 

 usually found above the limit of vegetation, unless driven 

 to seek safety in higher and less accessible regions ; there- 

 fore, being tied to your companions need seldom be resorted 

 to as an absolute necessity in Himalayan hunting. 



At last we get to within 150 yards or so of the place where 

 the ibex are now reposing in a little corrie. But the best 

 bucks are hidden from view, and we cannot get nearer with- 

 out being detected. After waiting patiently there for an 

 hour or more, and calculating with much satisfaction upon 

 the certainty of, sooner or later, getting an easy chance, we 

 are much surprised at hearing one of the beasts sound its 

 alarm-whistle ; for we are well hidden from them, and the 

 wind is right. But we soon discover that the animal's 



