219 
April, 1920 F 
HUNTING THE TAKIN 
(CONTINUED FROM PAGE 200) 
the snow had commenced to melt and had 
left large patches of bare rock. We had 
arrived where the hunters expected to 
find the game; in fact, tracks in the 
snow showed the animals had been in 
the neighborhood, but no trail was suf- 
ficiently fresh for the dogs to take that 
day. Our camp was too far below us to 
descend that night, besides the labor of 
reclimbing the next morning to regain 
our position. An overhanging rock of- 
fered a partial shelter from the cutting 
wind and under that we crawled and 
started a fire. I found on trying to 
sleep, my duty consisted of dozing be- 
side the fire and replenishing it as fast 
as it burned down, for it was cold enough 
to freeze the tail of a Polar bear. 
A T daybreak we were astir. The 
Tibetan hunters had their feed of 
sambar, fried oatmeal mixed with 
butter and sugar, and washed down with 
a drink of buttered tea from their can- 
teens. The dogs were also fed with sam- 
bar. This breed was originally a cross 
between the Kamchatka and the wolf. 
They are vicious and snappy and will 
not stick to a trail equal to the foxhound. 
After an hour’s climb still further up 
the range, part of the time on my hands 
and knees, assisted by the hunters push- 
ing and pulling, we reached a .small 
plateau leading into the gorge above. 
On the farther edge stood two serow, 
male and female, about 200 yards away. 
Before I could get to my knee for a 
steady shot they broke up the gorge at a 
rate that seemed to distance the bullets 
we poured after them. It seemed incredi- 
ble that any animal could travel up a 
steep and rocky mountain side at the 
tremendous gait they were going without 
being dashed to pieces, but no such fate 
awaited them as long as they were in 
sight. The dogs were in full cry but 
soon gave up what their canine intelli- 
gence recognized as a hopeless chase. 
“Never mind,” said the chief hunter 
to the interpreter, “the ya-nu will run 
as fast the other way.” 
I thought at the time that if he should 
I preferred not to be in his line of march 
and take the chances of stopping him. 
About noon the dogs were in a gully 
and we were skirting the edge. First 
one gave tongue, then all joined in. The 
baying increased to a chorus of angry 
barks and yelps. The Chief, who kept 
close to my interpreter and me, said, 
“He’s turned on the dogs; you can get 
as close as you like.” We slackened our 
pace until we reached a ledge of rocks 
at the top of the incline. Turning aside 
to clear it we came into view of the 
takin, surrounded by the dogs, not 50 
yards away. He was making frantic 
rushes from one dog to another trying 
to butt and gore them with his horns. 
The dogs were howling with rage and 
domg their best to avoid his attacks. 
The moment we appeared from behind 
the ledge the takin stopped and partially 
turned toward us. This gave me the 
opportunity to place behind his shoulder 
the 303 bullet and no second shot was 
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