132 



THE TAHR. 



Owing to the ground it inhabits being so covered with jungle, the pursuit of the Tahr 

 is attended with a good deal of labor and uncertainty. Forcing one's way for hours through 

 tangled bushes is very fatiguing, and as it is impossible to do so without noise, chances are 

 often lost which would be easy enough if the ground was more open. Frequently, although 

 the tracks show that old Tahr must be near, in spite of the utmost care and caution, the first 

 intimation one has of the presence of the game is a rush through the bushes, a clatter of 

 falling stones, and perhaps a glimpse of the shaggy hind-quarters of the last of the herd as 

 he vanishes over some precipice where it is perfectly impossible to follow him. 



Early in the spring, when grass and leaves are scarce, and again in the rutting season, 

 are the best times for Tahr shooting, as the old males then come out on the open slopes. 



The Tahr is very tenacious of life, and even when mortally wounded, he will frequently 

 make his escape into utterly impracticable ground. In autumn the Tahr becomes 

 immensely fat and heavy, and his flesh is then in high favor with the natives, the rank flavor 

 suiting their not very delicate palates. An Englishman would rather not be within one 

 hundred yards to leeward of him ! the perfume being equal to treble distilled " bouquet de 

 bouc." Ibex is bad enough, but Tahr is " a caution." The flesh of the female is, however, 

 excellent. 



Somehow or other, it was several years before I made a special expedition after Tahr ; 

 the superior attractions of Ibex, Nyan and Burrell leading me to the higher and more dis- 

 tant ranges. At length I determined to add a pair of Tahr's horns to my collection, and 

 accordingly in 1869 I marched from Mussourie to the valley of the Tonse, where I had heard 

 of a place said to be famous for Tahr. 



Times had changed, however, and I found that the ground, besides being continually 

 disturbed by woodcutters, was frequently poached by professional Shikaris, those curses to 

 sport in the Himalayas. Tahr still existed, but they were scarce, and confined themselves 

 almost entirely to the thickest forests and most perpendicular precipices. For several days, 

 although I worked hard, I only saw a few females, and did not even come across the track 

 of a male. 



At last, towards the close of a long day's work, I had the satisfaction of discovering a 

 herd in an open glade, where I contrived to stalk to within fair range — about a hundred and 

 twenty yards. , 



I was additionally anxious to make a good shot, as I was using a new rifle which I had 

 never yet fired at game, but on carefully reconnoitring I was disappointed to find that there 

 were no really large males in the flock. I selected the best, however, and aimed at his 

 shoulder as he stood offering a fair clear shot. The rifle threw true, and the Tahr rolled dead 

 to the bottom of the ravine. 



On subsequent days, I two or three times roused male Tahr among the forest-clad preci- 

 pices, but without their giving me a chance, and I left the valley without securing a first rate 

 specimen. 



Next year a friend recommended me to try Mangli in Chamba, and having obtained 

 leave from the middle of April, I made straight for the place. 



