Now we reached snow, and the going became easier, whereupon Ahmed Bot promptly set a pace which left me struggling far behind.  As the sun grew stronger the surface-crust of the snow became soft, and at every few steps one went through to the knees, until both muscles and temper became sorely tried.  For an hour or so we kept climbing up what was evidently one of the many steep and rugged ranges which, radiating from Haramok, on this side flank the Wular with their lofty bastions.  Having apparently attained the height he deemed necessary, and got well above the part of the pine forest in which he expected to find game, Ahmed Bot turned to the left of the ridge, and we were immediately involved in the deep drifts which covered the pine-clad slope of the nullah.  Over snow-covered trunks of prostrate trees, over hidden holes and broken rocks, we toiled and scrambled until, emerging breathless on a bare knoll—­smooth and white as a great wedding-cake—­we obtained a searching view into the neighbouring gullies.  Still no sign or track of any “beast,” so we worked back until, tired and hot, I regained the place where Madame lay basking beneath her sunshade.  The shikari and his myrmidons departed to “look” another bit of country, while I, nothing loth, remained to await events in the neighbourhood of the refreshment department.

On the return of the men, who had of course seen nothing, we set off for home, climbing down the edge of the ridge where yellow colchicum starred the turf.  It was steep—­verging on the precipitous in places—­and Jane frankly expressed her satisfaction when we accomplished the worst part and entered a dense jungle of scrubby bushes, all of which seemed to grow spines of sorts.  A bear was said to have been seen here yesterday, so we kept our weather eyelids lifting, but were not favoured with a sight of him.  We had almost gained the bottom of the hill, with but two short miles to dinner and a tub, when weird shrieks and whistles were exchanged between our people and an excited villager below.  The shikari, his eyes gleaming with uncontrollable excitement, announced that the “big stag” was waiting for me at that very moment!—­and therewith Ahmed Bot dashed off down the hill, leaving me to follow as best I might.  Leaving my wife in charge of the tiffin coolie, I tumbled off after the shikari, whom I found gloating with the messenger over the inspiriting particulars of the monarch of the glen, which, I understood, crouched expectant some paltry 2000 feet above us, near the top of the nullah!

It was past six o’clock, and the light already showing signs of waning, so we lost no time in attacking the hill again.  I was pretty well “done,” and had to accept a tow from the shikari, and hand in hand we pressed up that accursed hill until, at seven o’clock, the sun set and it began to grow dusk.  Lying down near the edge of the snow, to gain breath and let the shikari crawl round and “look” the face of the hill, I was soon moved to activity