COMING NEARER TO THE MARKHOR 125 



hardens almost immediately, and the extreme cold 

 from the earth beneath soon causes the new steps to 

 freeze afresh. 



The ravine was about two hundred yards wide, 

 and spread downwards in pleasant undulations for 

 hundreds of yards. 



Their work finished, the stalkers come back for 

 me, and Sultana unwinds his puggree and tries to 

 fasten me to himself. 



" It is safer, Sahib. We are responsible for your 

 safety." 



" I will only take hold of your leash with one 

 hand. I prefer to be on the safe side. You might 

 slip yourself then I should let go at once," is my 

 unspoken and unchristianlike thought, as I twist 

 Sultana's rose-coloured cloth made in Germany 

 tightly round my wrist and prepare to follow him, 

 whilst Samdu, Unkar, and the bearers bring up the 

 rear. Thus, step by step, we cross the rocky arena. 



It is a strange sensation. A single false step, a 

 moment's giddiness, and down we go ! Quite 

 softly and slowly at first, then quicker and quicker 

 never to return ! 



One must not think of it. 



" Markhor, markhor," pipe the shikaris. " We 

 shall see them in a minute." 



"They are still on the same spot," is Samdu's 

 cheerful news a little later ; for he had gone forward 

 whilst I stopped to eat a mouthful of food. 



