A Vanishing Sport 121 



slipping. A long chase follows, the hounds hunt- 

 ing their game from precipice to precipice, the 

 shikari keeping them in sight or hearing as best 

 he may. A long day's hunt in deep snow and 

 frequently the most appallingly dangerous ground, 

 is the usual thing, the end of which may be a 

 shot or may not. Much of course depends on 

 the suitability of the valley for this kind of 

 hunting. The best nullahs which have been 

 pointed out to me, all have the same character- 

 istics : the greater part of the ground is com- 

 paratively easy, but somewhere in the middle 

 is a great scarp of naked rock, from which it 

 would be impossible for the hounds to move a 

 beast which had once taken refuge there. 



Imagine the scene at such a moment : the ibex 

 standing on a ledge or niche in some sheer cliffs 

 of rock, turning this way and that ; the exhausted 

 hounds lying at the bottom with lolling tongues, 

 baying as they lie and taking snatches at the 

 snow. Enter the shikari from above at a dizzy 

 height, peering over the edge. The range is too 

 far for his rude weapon. He examines the ground 

 with the eye of a cragsman born and bred, to 

 whom giddiness and nerves are unknown. His 

 feet, wrapped round with strips of untanned hide, 

 will stand firm on rock which would appear as 

 impracticable for one in nailed boots as the danc- 



