110 THE THIBETAN ANTELOPE. 



them by a drive, which is often a capital plan when they are feeding on the grassy flats by 

 the river. The banks above are very steep, and it is only in certain places that the Antelope 

 can ascend them : by placing oneself in the most likely path and sending a man round to 

 drive them, a shot may often be obtained when it would be impossible by stalking. 



On my last visit to Chung Chenmo, in 1870, I had my first stalk at Antelope completely 

 spoiled by some Chankos, who seized the inopportune moment to carry out their designs on 

 the herd which I had discovered. The Antelope, however, took the alarm and made off 

 without giving the Wolves a chance, and the latter were equally careful not to give me an 

 opportunity of punishing them for spoiling my sport. 



The following day, I shifted my camp and marched several miles without seeing game. 

 Having pitched my tent on a pleasant grassy flat, where the valley was nearly a mile wide, 

 I was taking my ease and beginning to think of dinner, when one of my men came to tell 

 me that two Antelope were feeding in a lateral ravine on the opposite side of the valley. 

 From my tent door I could plainly see them — two yellowish specks on the bright green grass, 

 a little way up a nullah with precipitous sides. My plans were quickly formed ; I went about 

 half a mile down the valley, and then, when the Antelope were lost to view, forded the river, 

 and gaining the plateau above the opposite bank, walked quietly up-wind in the direction 

 of the nullah where they were feeding. It was now all plain sailing; and when, on approach- 

 ing the nullah, I carefully crept to its edge, I had the satisfaction of seeing the Antelope 

 still unsuspiciously grazing immediately below me, not more than forty yards off. There was 

 little difference in size, so I selected the one in the best position, and dropped him on the 

 spot. The other, startled by the shot, but ignorant whence the danger came, stood to gaze, 

 and, slipping in another cartridge, I knocked him over also. Both had well-shaped perfect 

 horns, about twenty-four inches in length. 



The following day, I only found one lot of Antelope, and my rifle missing fire at the 

 stalk shot, I only succeeded in wounding one by a long shot, as they went away. 



Being in search of Yak, I did not trouble myself about Antelope for the next two or 

 three days, but when there was no longer any fear of disturbing the larger game, I again 

 fired at all that came in my way. 



One morning, I found a herd feeding near a watercourse, and had managed to stalk to 

 within shot, when a solitary outlying buck, which I had not seen, came across some higher 

 ground, and gave the alarm. He paid the penalty, however, for, as he stopped to gaze, my 

 bullet laid him low. 



I had a long walk that day, and as I returned homewards down the valley, I discovered 

 another herd in such favorable ground that I was enabled to approach them within seventy 

 yards, and knocked over the finest : as I remained perfectly still, the others stood hesitating 

 where to fly to, and my second shot brought down another. I had to leave all three 

 Antelope hidden under rocks, to be brought home in the morning. 



I shot some more on succeeding days, but as there was nothing particular to record about 

 the stalks, I need not describe them. But a singular piece of good fortune, which befell me 

 on my return journey down the valley, is, perhaps, worth mentioning. Just before reaching 



