TRACKS OF A HERD. 217 



under the saddle produced the skin of an arkar 

 or female Ovis poll, then said if I liked he 

 would that very day take me to the spot where 

 he had shot it a short time ago. I was bound 

 to believe him, and when we got to the water- 

 course pitched the camp. It was a few miles 

 from the shooting-ground, he said, but there 

 was no water to be had nearer. 



That afternoon I started with my new shikari 

 to look for the promised poli. There were 

 two ranges of hills between which the steppe 

 extended, falling away from the greater or Ush- 

 turfan range in undulating hillocks, and cut up 

 with a network of precipitous nullahs ; amongst 

 these my shikari said we would find our game. 

 After going about eight miles we came to an 

 open grassy hollow at the edge of the hillocks. 

 Here we dismounted, I from my pony and the 

 shikari from his camel ; and being now at the 

 shooting-ground, he said we had better hobble, 

 and leave them until our return. 



I confess to being still sceptical as to finding 

 the poli so low down, but we had not gone 

 a quarter of a mile when my doubts were dis- 

 pelled : there, sure enough, were the tracks of 

 a herd, and seemingly quite fresh. They were 



