164 Sport and Life in the Further Himalaya 



ing-glasses are pulled out and the ground in front 

 carefully examined, \ipoli are there, they will be 

 seen fast enough on the snow ; it may be a big 

 herd of rams on the move at this early hour. 

 Some of them are on the look-out, while others are 

 scraping at the snow with their forefeet to get a 

 nibble at the roots of last summer's grass. It may 

 be that a grey, cloud-like patch on a distant snow 

 slope reveals a big herd of females, all lying down 

 facing windwards. Possibly, however, no poll are 

 in sight ; only a gaunt wolf trots across the field 

 of view, or the eye is attracted by a slight move- 

 ment to a covey of snow-partridges nestling together 

 under a rock. There were few days, however, on 

 the Pamirs during the course of which poll were 

 not seen generally, of course, females or small 

 rams, for really big heads are rare. 



My first stalk after poll ended in a fiasco. The 

 herd was in an ideal spot for an approach, and I 

 had no difficulty in getting within seventy or 

 eighty yards of them, and as I planted my elbows 

 in the snow to take my shot, I looked on the big 

 ram of the herd as already mine. But as I pulled 

 the trigger, the cartridge snapped like the cap of a 

 toy pistol. Off went the herd, taking enormous 

 kangaroo-like bounds in the deep snow, their fore- 

 feet seeming scarcely to penetrate its surface. 

 Three more cartridges snapped like the first. The 



