Chapter 20 - The Plant Hunters by Mayne Reid

The Musk-Deer.

A few days’ more journeying up the mountains brought our travellers to the limits of the forest. They once more looked upon the snowy peaks of the great central chain towering up into the clouds. I say once more—for they had already seen these peaks from the plains of India while still more than a hundred miles distant from them; but, as they approached nearer, and while advancing through the foot-hills, the snow-covered mountains had no longer been in sight!

This may appear a puzzle, but it is very easily explained. When very near to a house you will be unable to see the steeple of a church that is behind it; whereas by going to a greater distance from the house, the higher steeple comes at once before your eyes.

So is it with mountains. From a great distance their highest peaks are those that may be seen, but as you draw nearer, their lower range, or foot-hills, subtend the angle of vision; and it is only after having passed through, or over these, that you again behold the more elevated summits.

Our travellers were now in sight of the snowy summits of the Himalayas, several of which rose to the stupendous height of five miles above the level of the sea—one or two even exceeding this elevation.

Of course it was not the design of the plant-hunters to attempt to climb to the tops of any of these gigantic mountains. That they well knew would not be possible, as it is almost certain that at such an elevation a human being could not live. Karl, however, was determined to proceed as far as vegetation extended; for he believed that many rare and choice plants might be found even as high as the snow-line; and indeed there are several species of beautiful rhododendrons, and junipers, and pines, which grow only in what may be termed the “Arctic zone” of the Himalayas.

With this idea, then, the travellers kept on—each day getting higher, and farther into the heart of the great chain.

For two or three days they had been climbing through wild desolate valleys, quite without inhabitants; yet they were able to find plenty of food, as in these valleys there were animals of various kinds, and with their guns they had no difficulty in procuring a supply of meat. They found the “talin,” a species of wild goat, the male of which often attains to the weight of three hundred pounds, and a fine species of deer known in the Himalayas as the “serow.” They also shot one or two wild sheep, known by the name of “burrell,” and an antelope called “gooral,” which is the “chamois” of the Indian Alps.

It may be as well here to remark, that in the vast extended chain of the Himalayas, as well as throughout the high mountain steppes of Asia, there exist wild sheep and wild goats, as well as deer and antelopes, of a great many species that have never been described by naturalists. Indeed, but little more is known of them than what has been obtained from the notes of a few enterprising English sportsmen. It would be safe to conjecture that there are in Asia a dozen species of wild sheep, and quite as many belonging to the goat-tribe; and when that continent shall be thoroughly explored by scientific travellers, a very large addition will be made to the catalogue of ruminant animals. Nearly every extensive valley or chain of the Asiatic mountains possesses some species of the sheep or goat-tribe peculiar to itself, and differing from all others of the same genus; and in ascending the stupendous heights of the Himalayas you find that every stage of elevation has its peculiar species. Some dwell in dense forests, others in those that are thin and open. Some prefer the grassy slopes, while others affect the barren ridges of rock. There are those that are found only upon the very limits of vegetation, spending most of their lives within the region of eternal snow. Among these are the famed ibex and the large wild sheep known as the Ovis ammon.

There was none of the Himalayan animals that interested our travellers more than the curious little creature known as the “musk-deer.” This is the animal from which the famous scent is obtained; and which is consequently a much persecuted creature. It dwells in the Himalayan Mountains, ranging from an elevation of about eight thousand feet to the limits of perpetual snow, and is an object of the chase to the hunters of these regions, who make their living by collecting the musk and disposing of it to the merchants of the plains. The animal itself is a small creature, less in size than our fallow-deer, and of a speckled brownish grey colour, darker on the hind-quarters. Its head is small, its ears long and upright, and it is without horns.

A peculiarity exists in the males which renders them easy to be distinguished from other animals of the deer kind. They have a pair of tusks in the upper jaw projecting downwards, each full three inches in length, and about as thick as a goose’s quill. These give to the animal altogether a peculiar appearance. The males only yield the musk, which is found in grains, or little pellets, inside a sac or pod in the skin, situated near the navel; but what produces this singular substance, or what purpose it serves in the economy of the animal, it is not easy to say. It has proved its worst foe. But for the musk this harmless little deer would be comparatively a worthless object of the chase; but as it is, the valuable commodity has created for it a host of enemies, who follow no other occupation but that of hunting it to the death.

The plant-hunters had several times seen musk-deer as they journeyed up the mountain; but as the animal is exceedingly shy, and one of the swiftest of the deer kind, they had not succeeded in getting a shot. They were all the more anxious to procure one, from the very difficulty which they had met with in doing so.

One day as they were proceeding up a very wild ravine, among some stunted juniper and rhododendron bushes, they started from his lair one of the largest musk-deer they had yet seen. As he kept directly on, and did not seem to run very fast, they determined to pursue him. Fritz, therefore, was put upon his trail, and the others followed as fast as they were able to get over the rough ground.

They had not gone far, when the baying of the dog told them that the chase had forsaken the ravine in which they had first started it, and had taken into a lateral valley.

On arriving at the mouth of this last, they perceived that it was filled by a glacier. This did not surprise them, as they had already seen several glaciers in the mountain valleys, and they were every hour getting farther within the region of these icy phenomena.

A sloping path enabled them to reach the top of the glacier, and they now perceived the tracks of the deer. Some snow had fallen and still lay unmelted upon the icy surface, and in this the foot-prints of the animal were quite distinct, Fritz had stopped at the end of the glacier, as if to await further instructions; but without hesitation the hunters climbed up on the ice, and followed the trail.