CHAPTER VII 



IBEX-SHOOTING IN THE MOUNTAINS OF BALTISTAN 



[NE can hardly imagine a wilder and 

 more mountainous country than Bal- 

 tistan. Down in the little green vil- 

 lages which lie at intervals along the 

 rivers, you realize simply that in that particular 

 spot you are shut in on all sides by giant masses of 

 rock and snow, which start from the very river-bank 

 and rise either gradually or in perpendicular pre- 

 cipices to tremendous heights above. But as you 

 climb, hoping perhaps that each successive ridge 

 will reveal some broad plain or valley below, only 

 innumerable other peaks and ridges, rising and still 

 rising, meet your view, till finally, on mastering 

 some commanding eminence, you see before you the 

 stuff that Baltistan is made of, mountains, moun- 

 tains, mountains, nothing else, chain after chain 

 of them, extending in splendid confusion, snow- 

 capped and barren of vegetation, off to a horizon 

 of serried peaks and towering ridges. 



Such a scene as this is worth much labor to behold, 

 and causes you to realize, if you have never realized 



