944 Journal of a trip through Kunawur. [Nov. 



started from among the rocks a small flock of Burrul, or wild sheep, 

 which began leisurely to scale the steep sides of the glen, springing 

 from ledge to ledge till they attained to a place of easy ascent, when, as 

 if satisfied that they could bid defiance to pursuit, they stopped to 

 survey our party. A shout from some one in the rear, again set them 

 in motion towards the summit of the mountain from which we had 

 just descended; the direction they took, lay right across the path, 

 and just at the moment when they gained it, my shikarree came in 

 sight, on a part of the hill above them, a shrill whistle from one 

 of the Tartars caught the ear of the hunter, who was soon instructed 

 by signs to blow his match and give chace. 



From his greater elevation he was able to bring himself near the 

 line the animals were taking, and at the same time to screen himself 

 from their view until just within gun-shot, when they perceived him. 

 In an instant a flash was seen, and the sharp crack of the matchlock, 

 ringing in echoes among the rocks, told that the quarry had come 

 within reach, and at the same moment off bounded the flock towards 

 the most inaccessible part of the mountain. The shot however had 

 not been fired in vain, for suddenly the leading sheep was seen 

 to turn downwards and avoid the rocks, as if conscious that he 

 had not power to scale them, and taking an easier and more slanting 

 direction along the side of the cliff, he soon slackened his pace and 

 laid down. The rest of the flock losing their leader turned down- 

 wards also and rejoined him. The shikarree in the meantime had 

 reloaded, and was again warily stealing on from rock to rock upon his 

 game, but they were now fully on the alert, and once more leaving 

 their wounded companion, bounded up the rocks at a rapid pace. 

 Again the bright flash of the matchlock was seen, but alas, this time 

 there followed no report, and ere the hunter could reprime, the sheep 

 had won the mountain's brow and disappeared. Nor had the wounded 

 animal failed to avail himself of the chance afforded for escape, 

 but scrambling along the side of the rocky glen, he was fast gaining 

 on a place where a turn of the mountain would have screened him 

 from our sight, when scrambling up a rugged and projecting ledge 

 his strength failed him, and falling backwards with a cry of terror, 

 we saw him, for a while quivering as he fell headlong from rock 

 to rock, and was lost in the rush of waters at the bottom of the 

 chasm. 



No village occurring this day to bless our longing sight, we at 

 length encamped, after a long march, on the side of the hill, at a spot 

 where sheep are usually penned for the night when travelling with 



