2OO Sport and Life in the Further Himalaya 



bottomless receptacle a dead hare and a live fowl. 

 As he often acted as my guide, I had frequent 

 occasion to examine his back, where my eyes were 

 invariably attracted to a dark triangular mark 

 starting from where his collar might have been 

 and reaching to the middle of his back, the origin 

 of which puzzled me till I noticed that it coincided 

 with the oscillations of his pigtail ! No descrip- 

 tion could give my readers a correct idea of Siring 

 Namgyal's personality without a reference to his 

 aroma, which was very markedly that of the genus 

 homo (unwashed) plus that of chang, a barley beer 

 of which he was very fond. For all his grotesque- 

 ness, the little twinkling eyes that looked out of 

 slits in the puckered yellow face of my shikari 

 were honest little eyes and those of a right good 

 sportsman. 



After we had been looking with our glasses 

 for a few minutes, Siring Namgyal got quietly 

 up and, taking my rifle, went round the rock 

 under cover, struck an attitude, and began slowly 

 to revolve. One hand was on his hip, the other 

 outstretched, holding the rifle with a triumphant 

 gesture. A beatific smile was on his face. Sure 

 enough he was dancing, and what was more I knew 

 he had seen burhel, for one of the peculiarities of 

 this little hunter was that when anything occurred 

 to please him nothing could prevent him from 



