68 THE MARKHOR 



trembling in every limb, shivering with cold. Day 

 comes quickly. 



We are lying on the top of a narrow ridge. 

 Below us are piles of gigantic rocks, opposite to us 

 bare, desolate mountains ; behind us a whole row of 

 mountain-tops follow closely one on the other, and 

 on the horizon glitter snowy summits of an un- 

 imaginable height. 



So far we have not been able to sight any game 

 through our glasses. An enormous vulture sweeps 

 past us, quickly followed by a second, and with the 

 aid of the telescope I can see about thirty of these 

 giants on a projecting rock not far off. They have 

 spent their night there, and now fly valleywards one 

 after the other. 



At this moment Samdu creeps close up to me. 



" Bara gorel," he whispers, and points across the 

 chasm. 



I can see nothing. 



" Bara, bara," he repeats eagerly. 



But I can still see nothing. 



Now Unkar, too, pretends to be able to see the 

 gorel, and turns nimbly to me with raised finger. 

 9 " Ek," he nods. " One buck." 



But utterly in vain are the efforts of both to make 

 clear to me the spot where the beast is standing. 

 They take aim with my rifle, make signs with their 

 arms and hands. They begin to get impatient, 

 gesticulate, and try to make themselves understood 



