126 THE MARKHOR 



Noiselessly we make our way over the last snow- 

 covered barricades, creep to the very edge of the 

 bulwarks, peep, ventre-a-terre, over the mass of bare 

 rocks. But for a long time I can see nothing. In 

 a toneless voice Samdu tries to direct my eager gaze. 

 But still I cannot get a glimpse at the longed-for 

 creatures. 



At last ! Now I think I see them, standing 

 out like grey spots against the deep snow. 



They are lying between some big boulders, and 

 with the help of the telescope I can now see them 

 quite distinctly. 



With heads proudly raised, the markhor are 

 staring down into the valley, their majestic horns 

 standing out black against the white background. I 

 can count five. The master-buck is lying in the 

 front row, a little higher than the others. 



" Quite impossible to get any nearer," gesticulate 

 the stalkers. "The Sahib must wait until they go 

 down to graze." 



We squat on our haunches and watch them, never 

 once removing our eyes or our glasses. 



And there they lie, motionless as stone pagodas. 



Still they do not move, though the sun is begin- 

 ning to sink behind the mountains, and a wonderful 

 sunset fills the valley with its fiery light. 



At last the foremost buck gets slowly up. There 

 he stands in the snow, a mighty creature with giant 

 horns. He stretches his hairy body, raises his 



