CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
THE LONE MOUNTAIN VALLEY.
A pa.s.s there was, sure enough, that opened between the cliffs like a great gate. Why they had not perceived it sooner was because the gorge bent a little to the right before opening to this outlet; and, of course, the bend from a distance appeared to be the termination of the ravine.
A hundred yards from the bend brought them into the great gate between the cliffs, and there a view opened before their eyes that filled their hearts with joy and admiration.
Perhaps in all the world they could not have looked upon a more singular landscape. Right before their faces, and somewhat below the level on which they stood, lay a valley. It was nearly of a circular shape, and, perhaps, a league or more in circ.u.mference. In the middle of this valley was a lake several hundred yards in diameter. The whole bottom of the valley appeared to be a plane, but slightly elevated above the water level, consisting of green meadows, beautifully interspersed with copses of shrubbery and clumps of trees, with foliage of rich and varied colours. What appeared to be droves of cattle and herds of deer were browsing on the meadows, or wandering around the copses; while flocks of waterfowl disported themselves over the blue water of the lake.
So park-like was the aspect of this sequestered valley, that the eyes of our travellers instinctively wandered over its surface in search of human dwellings or the forms of human beings; and were only astonished at not perceiving either. They looked for a house,--a n.o.ble mansion,--a palace to correspond to that fair park. They looked for chimneys among the trees--for the ascending smoke. No trace of all these could be detected. A smoke there was, but it was not that of a fire. It was a white vapour that rose near one side of the valley, curling upward like steam. This surprised and puzzled them. They could not tell what caused it, but they could tell that it was not the smoke of a fire.
But the form of the valley--its dimensions--its central lake--its green meadows and trees--its browsing herds--its wild fowl might have been seen elsewhere. All these things might occur, and do occur in many parts of the earth"s surface without the scene being regarded as singular or remarkable. It was not these that have led us to characterise the landscape in question as one of the most singular in the world. No--its singularity rested upon other circ.u.mstances.
One of these circ.u.mstances was, that around the valley there appeared a dark belt of nearly equal breadth, that seemed to hem it in as with a gigantic fence. A little examination told that this dark belt was a line of cliffs, that, rising up from the level bottom on all sides, fronted the valley and the lake. In other words, the valley was surrounded by a precipice. In the distance it appeared only a few yards in height, but that might be a deception of the eye.
Above the black line another circular belt encompa.s.sed the valley. It was the sloping sides of bleak barren mountains. Still another belt higher up was formed by the snowy crests of the same mountains--here in roof-like ridges, there in rounded domes, or sharp cone-shaped peaks, that pierced the heavens far above the line of eternal snow.
There seemed to be no way of entrance into this singular basin except over the line of black cliff. The gap in which our travellers stood, and the ravine through which they had ascended appeared to be its only outlet; and this, filled as it was by glacier ice, raised the summit of the pa.s.s above the level of the valley; but a sloping descent over a vast _debris_ of fallen rocks--the "moraine" of the glacier itself-- afforded a path down to the bottom of the valley.
For several minutes all three remained in the gap, viewing this strange scene with feelings that partook of the nature of admiration--of wonder--of awe. The sun was just appearing over the mountains, and his rays, falling upon the crystallised snow, were refracted to the eyes of the spectators in all the colours of the rainbow. The snow itself in one place appeared of a roseate colour, while elsewhere it was streaked and mottled with golden hues. The lake, too--here rippled by the sporting fowl, there lying calm and smooth--reflected from its blue disk the white cones of the mountains, the darker belting of the nearer cliffs, or the green foliage upon its sh.o.r.es.
For hours Karl Linden could have gazed upon that fairy-like scene.
Caspar, of ruder mould, was entranced by its beauty; and even the hunter of the plains--the native of palm-groves and cane fields--confessed he had never beheld so beautiful a landscape. All of them were well acquainted with the Hindoo superst.i.tion concerning the Himalaya Mountains. The belief that in lonely valleys among the more inaccessible peaks, the Brahmin G.o.ds have their dwelling and their home; and they could not help fancying at that moment that the superst.i.tion might be true. Certainly, if it were true, some one of these deities, Vishnu, or Siva, or even Brahma himself, must dwell in that very valley that now lay before them.
But poetical and legendary sentiment soon vanished from the minds of our travellers. All three were hungry--hungry as wolves--and the ruling thought at the moment was to find the means for satisfying their appet.i.tes.
With this intent, therefore, they strode forward out of the gap, and commenced descending towards the bottom of the valley.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
GRUNTING OXEN.
There were several kinds of animals in sight, but it was natural that the hungry hunters should choose those that were nearest for their game.
The nearest also chanced to be the largest--though in the flock there were individuals of different sizes, from the bigness of a large ox to that of a Newfoundland dog. There were about a dozen in all, evidently of one kind, and the difference in size and other respects arose from a difference of age and s.e.x.
What sort of animals they were, not one of the party could tell. Even Ossaroo did not know them. He had never seen such creatures on the plains of India. It was evident to all, however, that they were some species of oxen or buffaloes, since they bore a general resemblance to animals of the family of _bovidae_. First there was the great ma.s.sive bull, the patriarch of the herd, standing nearly as tall as a horse, and quite as tall reckoning from the top of the stately hump on his shoulders. His curved horns spreading outward rose from a ma.s.s of thick curled hair, giving him the fierce aspect which characterises animals of the buffalo kind. But his chief peculiarity lay in the drapery of long silky hair, that from his sides, flanks, neck, belly, and thighs, hung downward until its tips almost dragged upon the gra.s.s. This singular appendage gave the animal the appearance of being short-legged, and the ma.s.sive thickness of the legs themselves added to the effect.
Karl could not help remarking in the old bull a considerable resemblance to the rare musk-ox of America; an animal with which he was acquainted, from having seen stuffed specimens in the museums. He noted, however, that there was one point in which the musk-ox differed essentially from the species before him--in regard to the fail. The musk-ox is almost tailless; or, rather, his fail is so small as to be quite inconspicuous amidst the long ma.s.ses of hair that adorn his croup; whereas the strange creature before them was remarkable for the large development of this appendage, which swept downward, full and wide, like the tail of a horse. The colour of the bull"s body appeared black in the distance, though, in reality, it was not black, but of a dark, chocolate brown; the tail, on the contrary, was snow-white, which, from this contrast in colour, added to the singularity of the animal"s appearance.
There was but one large bull in the herd; evidently the lord and master of all the others. These consisted of the females or cows, and the young. The cows were much smaller, scarce half the size of the old bull; their horns less ma.s.sive, and the tails and long hair less full and flowing.
Of the young, there were some of different ages; from the half-grown bull or heifer, to the calves lately dropped; which last were tearing about over the ground, and gambolling by the feet of their mothers.
About these little creatures there was a peculiarity. The long hair upon their flanks and sides had not yet made its appearance; but their whole coat was black and curly, just like that of a water-spaniel, or Newfoundland dog. In the distance, they bore a striking resemblance to these animals; and one might have fancied the herd to be a flock of buffaloes, with a number of black dogs running about in their midst.
"Whatever they be," remarked Caspar, "they look like they might be eatable. I think they"re beef of some kind."
"Beef, venison, or mutton--one of the three," rejoined Karl.
Ossaroo was not particular at that moment. He could have picked a rib of wolf-meat, and thought it palatable.
"Well, we must stalk them," continued Karl. "I see no other way of getting near them but by crawling through yonder copse."
The speaker pointed to a grove, near which the animals were browsing.
Caspar and Ossaroo agreed with this suggestion, and all three, having now reached the bottom of the descent, commenced their stalk.
Without any difficulty, they succeeded in reaching the copse; and then, creeping silently through the underwood, they came to that edge of it which was closest to the browsing herd. The bushes were evergreens-- rhododendrons--and formed excellent cover for a stalk; and, as yet, the game had neither seen, nor heard, nor smelt the approaching enemy. They were too distant for the arrows of Ossaroo, therefore Ossaroo could do nothing; but they were within excellent range of the rifle and double-barrel, loaded, as the latter was, with large buckshot.
Karl whispered to Caspar to choose one of the calves for the first barrel, while he himself aimed at the larger game.
The bull was too distant for either bullet or buckshot. He was standing apart, apparently acting as sentry to the herd, though this time he did not prove a watchful guardian. He had some suspicion, however, that all was not right; for, before they could fire, he seemed to have caught an alarm, and, striking the ground with his ma.s.sive hoofs, he uttered a strange noise, that resembled the grunting of a hog. So exactly did it a.s.similate to this, that our hunters, for the moment, believed there were pigs in the place, and actually looked around to discover their whereabouts.
A moment satisfied them, that the grunting came from the bull; and, without thinking any more about it, Karl and Caspar levelled their pieces, and fired.
The reports reverberated through the valley; and the next moment the whole herd, with the bull at their head, were seen going in full gallop across the plain. Not all of them, however. A calf, and one of the cows, lay stretched upon the sward, to the great delight of the hunters, who, rushing forth from their cover, soon stood triumphant over the fallen game.
A word or two pa.s.sed between them. They had determined on first cooking the calf, to appease their hunger, and were about proceeding to skin it, when a long, loud grunting sounded in their ears; and, on looking around, they beheld the great bull coming full tilt towards them, his head lowered to the ground, and his large, l.u.s.trous eyes flashing with rage and vengeance, he had only retreated a short distance, fancying, no doubt, that his whole family was after him; but, on missing two of its members, he was now on his return to rescue or revenge them.
Strange as was the animal to all three, there was no mistaking his prowess. His vast size, his wild, s.h.a.ggy front and sweeping horns, the vengeful expression of his eyes, all declared him a powerful and dangerous a.s.sailant. Not one of the hunters thought for a moment of withstanding such an a.s.sault; but, shouting to each other to run for their lives, all three started off as fast as their legs would carry them.
They ran for the copse, but that would not have saved them had it been mere copse-wood. Such a huge creature as their pursuer would have dashed through copse-wood as through a field of gra.s.s; and, in reality, he did so, charging through the bushes, goring them down on all sides of him, and uttering his loud grunting like a savage boar.
It so happened that there were several large trees growing up out of the underwood, and these, fortunately, were not difficult to climb. The three hunters did not need any advice, as to what they should do under the circ.u.mstances. Each had an instinct of his own, and that instinct prompted him to take to a tree; where, of course, he would be safe enough from an animal, whose claws, if it had any, were encased in hoofs.
The bull continued for some minutes to grunt and charge backward and forward among the bushes, but, not finding any of the party, he at length returned to the plain, where the dead were lying. He first approached the cow, and then the calf, and then repeatedly pa.s.sed from one to the other, placing his broad muzzle to their bodies, and uttering his grunting roar, apparently in a more plaintive strain than before.
After continuing these demonstrations for a while, he raised his head, looked over the plain, and then trotted sullenly off in the direction in which the others had gone.
Hungry as were the hunters, it was some time before they ventured to come down from their perch. But hunger overcame them at length, and descending, they picked up their various weapons--which they had dropped in their haste to climb--and, having loaded the empty barrels, they returned to the game.
These were now dragged up to the edge of the timber--so that in case the bull should take it into his head to return, they might not have so far to run for the friendly trees.
The calf was soon stripped of its skin--a fire kindled--several ribs broiled over the coals, and eaten in the shortest s.p.a.ce of time. Such delicious veal not one of the three had ever tasted in his life. It was not that their extreme hunger occasioned them to think so, but such was really the fact, for they were no longer ignorant of what they were eating. They now knew what sort of animals they had slain, and a singular circ.u.mstance had imparted to them this knowledge. As the bull charged about in front of the thicket, Ossaroo from his perch on the tree had a good view of him, and one thing belonging to the animal Ossaroo recognised as an old acquaintance--it was his _tail_! Yes, that tail was not to be mistaken. Many such had Ossaroo seen and handled in his young days. Many a fly had he brushed away with just such a one, and he could have recognised it had he found it growing upon a fish.
When they returned to the quarry, Ossaroo pointed to the tail of the dead cow--not half so full and large as that of the bull, but still of similar character--and with a significant glance to the others, said--
"Know "im now, Sahibs--_Ghowry_."
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
THE YAKS.
What Ossaroo meant was that he knew the tail; but he was as ignorant of the animal to which it was attached, as if the latter had been a dragon or a comet. Ossaroo saw that the tail was a "chowry," in other words, a fly-flapper, such as is used in the hot countries of India for brushing away flies, mosquitos, and other winged insects. Ossaroo knew it, for he had often handled one to fan the old sahib, who had been his master in the days of his boyhood.