THE KUNJERAT PASS. 103 



bash Pamir towards the Mustagh range, passing 

 some groups of Sirikuli yurts. These people 

 come on this pamir to graze their flocks in the 

 summer, and in the winter return to the smaller 

 villages in the lower part of the valleys. 



Akal Jahn, the Beg of the neighbourhood, whose 

 acquaintance we had already made on our journey 

 up, entertained us, and told us where we were 

 likely to find some gooljas, and also introduced 

 two Kirghiz, the best shikaris, he said, in the 

 country. 



We walked up an easy road for about ten miles 

 to the base of a broad col, the Kunjerat Pass, 

 and there, sheltered by a circle of rocks, we made 

 our camp. Bower and I started up this col to- 

 gether, and separated to the right and left. We 

 had not gone far when I saw a herd of rams on 

 the slopes on Bower's side, which he evidently 

 saw also, and I watched him through the glasses 

 manoeuvring for a chance. Then, when about 

 half-way across the plain, I sighted another herd, 

 and made out some good heads. After making 

 one or two false stalks, and having to wait and 

 change my tactics as the wind veered round, 

 I worked my way very carefully down. Instead 

 of my double .500, I had brought out the Martini 



