A Morning with the Mehtars Falcons 133 



hension why she did not slip off on one side or 

 the other. 



A scramble over the big grey boulders in the 

 river-bed brought us to a little track zigzagging 

 steeply upwards, following which, in a quarter of 

 an hour we reached a rocky eminence on a spur 

 of the mountain which ran down into the river. 

 A platform had been built up large enough to 

 accommodate a score of people, the front guarded 

 by a low wall. Below us, to our front and right, 

 were precipitous rocks ; behind us the bare 

 mountain rose up perpendicularly till lost to view ; 

 to our left was the narrow path over straight 

 slopes of shale by which we had ascended. The 

 blue river, flecked here and there with white, 

 flowed five hundred feet below us ; beyond this 

 the everlasting mountains, all but the lowest 

 slopes of which were deep in snow. On a similar 

 hawking platform to this, situated on a spur in 

 the Yarkhun valley, was once pointed out to me 

 the grave of a local chief, who, before his death, 

 made his family swear to bury him on the spot 

 where he had spent so many happy hours of life. 



Half a mile up the river could be seen the 

 cultivated terraces of the village of Sin, and above 

 them long straight screes of rock fragments. 

 Between these screes and us was another rocky 

 spur and more screes. 



