A Day after Urial 59 



yards, probably more, and the current is always 

 swift. 



These beasts are second to none in activity 

 and wariness, and though the ground they are 

 found in is less romantic than that of some of 

 the other game animals of the Himalaya, the 

 day an old ram urial is fairly stalked and shot is 

 one any sportsman can remember with pleasure. 



About the time the shadows began to creep 

 along the hillside, a cloud of dust some way 

 above the urial attracted our attention to another 

 herd coming down. Like most mountain game 

 going down to water, their progress was by 

 short rushes at headlong speed ; then a sudden 

 halt, and they would become stones. The big 

 rams got up and joined the herd, and they all 

 disappeared into the ravine together. Then we 

 too got up and went on to the edge, on the 

 chance of their having moved down our way ; 

 but nothing was in sight, and as it was too late 

 to begin climbing, we scrambled down to the 

 road and so on to camp. My tent was pitched 

 outside the little loopholed fort occupied by some 

 local levies. They were from Ghor, a small Dard 

 community, living in a collection of mud forts 

 perched high above the precipitous rocks which 

 descend sheer into the Indus opposite Lechir. 

 A wonderful country theirs for grapes, and one 



