Tibet. The descent lay through the extensive forest of Tapoban, extending for eighteen miles eastward, and clothing the slopes of the valley of the Rishi Ganga, a torrent-branch of the Dhauli, which comes from the glacier of Nanda Devi. This forest faced the north, and consisted of silver fir (Picea Webbiana) and Pinus excelsa. It took a week to explore this forest. It was full of game, bears, gooral, and the jerow, or great sambur deer. The underwood in these regions consists of ringal, or hill bamboo* (Arundinaria), growing so thickly that it is nearly impossible to get through it. These bamboos are very hardy, and make capital fishing-rods 30 feet long, hollow and light to handle. A long descent in the shadow of Nanda Devi, trying to the shins, brings one late and tired to Tapoban, on the Dhauli river, a camp on the route of the Bhotia traders over the Niti. Here are some hot springs near the river-bed, and a pleasant bath is obtained. It is dangerous to bathe in the snow-water, which sweeps by as white as milk from the quartz rocks of Trisul, ground fine beneath the glaciers.

Tapoban is a hot place, and there is little space for pitching a camp. An early start is made in company with a sahib who is marching up the Niti for shikar, and has already shot some gooral (chamois of the Himalayas). He has been after the thar on the heights above, but has not got any. Leaving the Dhauli river, I enter the side valley of the Rishi Ganga and encamp above the village of Rindi.

Here a guide or shikari was engaged from the village to explore the higher forests in various directions, so that a near acquaintance could be made with the great

* I have seen large clumps of this hardy bamboo growing and thriving well in the woods in Ireland, grown from seed sent home by myself.

central cluster of snow peaks. Nanda Devi is one of the most notable mountains in these parts, and extends with its brother peaks of Nanda Kot, Moo Gobin, and Trisul over an area of ten sheets of the survey, each twelve miles square, about 1,440 square miles, or 921,600 acres. From its great masses of snow-fields the Niti, the Rishi, the Pindar, the Trisul, and other glaciers descend. That in the Milam valley on the north-east, which will be visited later on, is thirty miles long. It was impossible to take the camp up the Rishi valley, as the sides were too precipitous. The camp was therefore left at Rindi, and a start was made with three men only from the village, all well used to snow and glacier and rock climbing, and one a good shikari, Punoo by name. A description of one climb taken from my diary will be given in the next chapter.

CHAPTER VI

AMONG THE SNOW PEAKS

THE animal described in Dr. Jerdon's 'Mammals of India' as the Ther or Gharal, Hemitragus jemlaicus, is a true wild goat, here called 'thar' by the natives. He possesses true caprine characteristics, a long shaggy coat, and trigonal horns turned back, peculiar in being very short and thick. He is about the size of a Lincoln sheep, but taller, and inhabits rocks and precipices of the steepest character right at the top of the tree line, here 13,000 feet high. He is, however, partly a forest animal, not always a frequenter of open grass-covered hills, like the various wild sheep. The thar is gregarious. In the summer the females and young ones are found in herds of ten to a hundred, and the males in smaller herds, generally higher up. In the rains the old thar becomes almost solitary, lying all day in the thick timber, and appearing at early morn and evening on the grassy slopes above to graze, and again retreat to the thickets. At the end of the monsoon an old buck thar is a very big, heavy beast, very fat, almost black, and with long black hair hanging down so as almost to cover his thick legs. He is then very difficult to approach, and a noble quarry for the shikari, who must work hard to procure a specimen. The females, called by the Kumaon natives 'therina,' are more easily approached, and resemble in their habits very much the chamois of the Alps.

The weather had been settled and hot for some time, and a good many ascents had been made with survey instruments and rifle, starting at daybreak and returning to camp at nightfall. On this occasion it was determined to ascend the great precipice which towered north of the Rishi stream, and to remain out at night in order to explore still higher ground. Provisions and a kettle and blankets were included in the impedimenta carried by a strong hill-man. The shikari, Punoo, was a tall, active native, clad in the hand-woven woollen coat and trousers and cap of natural-wool colour, similar to the colour of the rocks, usually worn by the villagers. He possessed all the qualities of the best Swiss guides, quick eyesight and an unfailing instinct as to the surmounting of crags and taking advantage of the trend of the strata and intervening grassy slopes and crevasses in the rocks, to pass upwards where the precipice appeared from below to be insurmountable. The summit was lost to view, or stood out against the deep blue sky, towering thousands of feet above the camp like a wall, almost overhanging where the vertical strata were broken off. A start was made after early tea, at about 4 a.m., in the dark. At first the sheep tracks leading to some grassy slopes were followed. The true pahari climbs with deliberate steps, never hurrying or getting out of breath, noiselessly choosing the best place for foothold on rock or grass, never detaching a loose stone which would be dangerous to those following him, balancing his weight truly as he climbs, so as to make no false steps. Light English shooting-boots well studded with nails are the best for the work for those used to boots, though some prefer grass shoes, which will not slip on rocks. The native wears grass shoes or goes barefoot. Several thousands of feet having been surmounted at about one thousand an

hour, the tracks became less marked, and were only at times met with, formed by the game. A grassy slope was followed between two lines of strata, and ravines like chimneys were passed, where stones were apt to rattle down and had to be dodged.

Towards noon a halt was made on a ledge of rock overlooking the valley below. Breakfast being partaken of, the glasses were used to examine the hillside, and sights were taken to fix the position of the forests in view; the river was scanned descending from glaciers, a white twisting line of foam, hid in places by rocks and boulders. A black object was seen on a snow bridge. The binoculars revealed a large black bear 5,000 feet below, crossing the valley, a mere black speck on the snow and gray rocks. Tracks of therina were now numerous, and silence was necessary not to alarm the watchful sentinels of the flock now reposing in some safe position, where the upward breeze began to freshen. It was useless to stalk going upwards, as the scent would soon betray the shikari's approach. We must round the rock buttress, where the tracks of the thar and fresh droppings showed that a large flock had recently passed along to where more grazing ground existed. There were caves where the slabs of strata overhung the shaded sleeping-place of many thar. A well-worn pulpit-like rock was the sentrybox, where some old female was placed to warn the flock of danger from prowling snow leopards, white like the weather-beaten rock.

Following this narrow ledge was dangerous in places, as one slip on the polished gneiss rock would shoot the unwary cragsman over the edge to fall into the depths beneath. A stone dropped here would perhaps strike twice in a descent of 4,000 feet. The natives crossed barefoot with the utmost nonchalance, carrying rifle and instruments and their