Having, in my numerous excursions into the hills, obtained some very vague information from the many villagers I came in contact with, that they had often heard from parties residing near the snow that there was an animal to be found there strongly resembling the famous sheep, (Ovid Burul,) I determined upon despatching Jye Sing and Buctoo to those regions, to obtain all the precise information that might be available, cautioning them not to return without either having seen the animal, or bringing me some proof of its existence, and further promising them a handsome present, if they brought me satisfactory information. They were absent two months, and returned with some most marvellous stories about what they had seen and heard, and, as a proof of the existence of the animal, brought me the horn of a wild sheep they had picked up in one of the valleys in the snow, after an avalanche had melted. This physical fragment at once removed all my doubts, the horn being different from that of any tame sheep. I was now wound up to the highest pitch of excitement; my marching establishment was soon put in order, and we started on the following day. Fifteen forced marches brought me to the foot of the snow, and also to the last village, called "Ufsul." I found the inhabitants of this village a most rude and demi-barbarous race, knowing little, and wishing to know less, of Englishmen, of whom they seemed to have the greatest dread. However, two days' soft sawdering with a plentiful supply of hill "buckshee," (spirits,) made them more communicative; and they at last informed me, if I would promise only to remain a week, they would show me the wild sheep. This promise, of course, I gave; and on the following morning at daybreak, (shivering cold it was,) we started to ascend the snow-capped mountains and glaciers, which the animal patronized. On the road up I was sorely tempted to draw my ball and ram down shot, in order to bring down some of the many woodcocks we were constantly flushing, and which were so unaccustomed to be disturbed, that they only flew a few yards away; but I resisted the temptation.

As we progressed in the region of eternal snow, we began to find pedestrianism a difficult task. Some parts of the path were very slippery and hard; others, soft and knee-deep in snow. An idea may be formed of the height we had to ascend, and the nature of the ground which we traversed, when I mention that we left our tents at seven o'clock in the morning, and had not arrived at the "sheep-walk" before one,

Now commenced the difficulty. The burrul, from its well-known and secluded habits, is a most difficult animal to approach. I was at last, however, rewarded for my labor. About two o'clock we came upon the fresh marks of the flock; we followed them for some distance, but coming near a hot spring where they had evidently been grazing, lost of course all farther track. For the next hour I worked on one glacier, around another, used my telescope, but could not discern any object. Suddenly one of the villagers called my attention to something above me. I looked up and beheld a pair of enormous horns bending over. None of the body of the animal was then visible. I now cautiously moved a short distance to the right, when I had the satisfaction of seeing not only his horns, but a full broadside view of the first wild sheep I ever saw. He was about one hundred and fifty yards off. Having elevated the proper sight, I brought my rifle to bear on the shoulder, took a steady and gradual draw of the trigger, the rifle cracked, and dead came down the burrul of Thibet.

Perhaps, up to this time, the burrul had known no other mortal foe than the white, or whitey-brown bear of the hills—the seeta bhaloo, as he is called. And this brings me to another part of my sporting excursion.

Whether from the scarcity of food, or the amiability of their dispositions, the seeta bhaloo are to be met with constantly in small bodies of from five to ten, differing in this respect from their sable brethren, who are generally found alone, unless a matrimonial alliance has been formed, when the intrusion of a third party, whether male or female, ensures a fight.

The white bear is only carnivorous when pressed by hunger, and in that state is very destructive to the numerous Tartar flocks of sheep, for Bruin, with an empty larder is not to be deterred from his ravenous attacks by men or dogs—a haunch of mutton he will have. His mode of devouring it differs greatly from that of the tiger or leopard. He tears the fleece off with his paws, and instead of gnawing and tearing the flesh, as most carnivorous animals do, he commences sucking it, and in this way draws off the flesh in shreds, thus occupying four or five hours in doing what a tiger or leopard would effectually achieve in half an hour. It is well known among the Tartars, (and I know it also from experience,) that a bear, after feasting off flesh, is a very dangerous customer, and will always show fight. If near the carcass he has captured, he will give very little trouble in looking for him, indeed, he will almost invariably attack the intruder.

One day while following up some wild sheep, I came upon two bears very busily engaged in digging up the snow where an avalanche had fallen. Being hid from their sight, I determined to wait some little time to ascertain why they were digging. I accordingly placed myself behind a rock, and allowed them to work away. In about an hour they had made a very good opening; and on using my glass I found they had got hold of something. I now pushed up to them. One immediately showed fight, and came out to meet me. He made one charge at me, which I received with a rifle ball, killing him the very first shot. The other bear got away. On going up to the spot where they had been at work, I found the exhumed bodies of three wild sheep. They had been carried away and buried underneath the avalanche, probably as far back as the previous year, considering the very compact and frozen state the snow was in. The sheep were in excellent order. We skinned them, and took them to our tents, and excellent mutton we all had for several days.

On the melting of the snows, the golden eagle of the Himalaya—a magnificent bird, often measuring thirteen feet from the tip of one wing to the other—is one of the best of pointers a sportsman can follow, to ascertain where any animal has been carried away in an avalanche. He hovers over the spot, constantly alighting, and then taking wing again; but if once you observe him pecking with his beak you may proceed to the spot, and be certain of finding, a very short distance below the snow, the carcass of a wild sheep, as fresh as it was on the day on which it was carried away. Many a haunch of good mutton have I obtained in this way.

The Himalayan golden eagle is a very carrion crow, never destroying its own game, and feeding on any dead carcass it may find,

Many an eagle have I shot feeding on the carcass of an unfortunate hill bullock, which, either through stupidity or fright, had tumbled over a precipice; and never, during the many years I shot over all parts of these hills, do I remember seeing a golden eagle pounce on or carry away a living prey.

The Tartar shepherds near the snow informed me that during the lambing season the eagles were very troublesome. If a ewe dropped a sickly lamb, and left it, the eagle would attack it, but never attempted to stoop to carry away a live one, or one that followed its mother. The Indian golden eagle is identical with the Lammergeyer of the Alps, but wants the courage of the latter bird.

A companion and myself had been working hard in the "Sogla," one of the passes in the snowy range conducting into Chinese Tartary, after the wild sheep, and found them this day wilder and more wary than on any previous occasion. It is not generally known that there are two species of wild sheep—one called the dairuk, and the other (an enormous animal, at least as far as its horns are concerned) known to naturalists as the ovis ammon. The horns and head of the latter are as much as a hill man can lift, and singular enough the body is small indeed, out of all proportion to the horns borne by a full-grown ram. My companion and self espied on an opposite hill what we at first (through our telescopes) thought was an enormous pair of horns moving without any ostensible carriage. At last we observed the body, and I, in delight, exclaimed, "By Jove, there is the ovis ammon at last."

After considerable trouble and precious hard work, we worked up to within the range, when a shot from my rifle brought the ram tumbling down over the snow. I hoped and believed he was dead, but he was only wounded. He got up again, and, in spite of the wound, made a very good gallop over the deep snow. Finding he was too fast for us, we slipped our dogs, and among them my poor "Karchia." The poor dog, as usual, was first up with the ram, and seized him. The ram, having still a good deal in him, broke the hold, and down he went to the bottom of the ravine, where ran the Tonse river, a tributary of the Jumna here in the snow.

The river was covered over in many places by avalanches, and was also partly frozen; but in many places there were large holes. The ram bounded over these until my poor dog Karchia again closed with and seized him behind. With a vigorous effort the ovis ammon shook him off. A few yards before the steep was a large hole in the Tonse, the water foaming up through it; into this ovis ammon threw himself, and was carried under the snow. Heaven knows where. On arriving at the spot I found my dog baying most piteously, and trying to bite away the frozen sides, but to no purpose, and I was obliged immediately to get him chained up, fearing he would have plunged in after the game, when I should have lost him, and most probably my own life. Having thus introduced the wild sheep and white bear of Tartary, a few sentences may not unprofitably be spent in describing the genus homo of the Snowy Range. The Tartars, as may be imagined, are a very original race, and in those parts visited by me I found them very primitive and intensive, always barring the petty larceny propensities. Depending principally on the sale of their wool for their support, and being Bhuddhists by religion, they dared not destroy animal life; but when nature had deprived one of their bullocks or sheep of existence, either by accident or old age, economy forbids their wasting the carcass, and it is eagerly devoured by them. Some of the ancient rams I saw would require a considerable deal of mastication and powerful digestive organs when summoned to their forefathers and committed to a Tartar's jaws.

I cannot say that the hill people thrive on the diet, for in appearance they are a miserable-looking, stunted race, very filthy in their habits, seldom changing their coarse woollen clothing, and entertaining a religious horror of cold water.

They have no objection to the good things brought from our side of the snow, and I have seen them devour salt beef and pork with great gusto. But what they must delight in, when they can get it, is English brandy and tobacco. The former they will drink in great quantities, and for men unaccustomed to liquor it is astonishing how well they resist its intoxicating properties. I saw one man, a "Siana," the head of a village, drink off two bottles of pure brandy without apparently feeling any ill effects from the potation. On questioning him about his sensations, he said that the only difference he found between the brandy and water was, that it made his inside comfortably warm, and his tongue very slippery, of which he gave us proof by chattering and singing in a most uncouth way. Of all the horrible noises I ever heard, those which a half-drunken Tartar makes are the most discordant. The deep nasal and guttural noises he emits would beat Welsh and Gaelic by a long chalk.

Although petty thefts are common among the Thibetans, valuable articles may with with safety be left among them—even money they will never touch. Many an hour have I whiled away among them watching Buctoo and Jye Sing showing them many articles of my property, the use or value of which they could not comprehend. Of my guns and rifles, in particular, they stood in great awe, and for a long time none of them cound be induced to touch one. Our telescopes also caused great terror, and many were the learned arguments they had as to what possibly could be the use of the latter. I invariably carried a favorite "Dolland" across my shoulder, and Buctoo was provided with a similar instrument, of which he was very proud, and in the use of which he became very expert.

One day, after a good day's sport, we had all sat down near a beautiful spring, and I was enjoying a luncheon, when I found that Buctoo had collected some fifty Tartars about him, who sat in a circle, listening to his explanation of the use of his telescope. None of his hearers could for some time be induced to touch it; they were afraid of its either exploding or metamorphosing them into wild sheep. The large village Tehong Si was about four miles below our bivouac, and several of the head men had come up to have a look at us. The village was just discernible to the naked eye, and Buctoo politely inquired of one of the chiefs, if he would like to be informed what was going on in the village below? The chief told him he should, when Buctoo drew out the glass, on which all the Tartars moved off to a respectful distance.

After looking at the village, Buctoo persuaded them to come close to him once more, and duly informed them what he could see in the village, describing certain parts of it so correctly that they were astounded. (I must here mention that neither myself nor any of my servants had been allowed to enter the village.) The Tartars at first could hardly credit it; but after sundry questions as to the description of houses on the north side, and again on the southern, which Buctoo, on carefully examining, correctly described, they became sadly perplexed. Buctoo once more endeavored to persuade them to take a look themselves, and, after much coaxing and a little brandy, one of the head men was induced to take the telescope into his hand.

The figure he cut in doing so, I shall not easily forget. He held it out at arm's length, grinned at it most horribly, and chattered some abominable gibberish in Tartaree, that no one understood, appearing to expect every moment that the glass would bite him. After some minutes spent in this way, he drew it near him, and by degrees became more confident. Buctoo then approached him and set it, telling him how to look through it. He then appeared very suspicious about this movement, evidently fancying the glass was going to explode. At length he threw it down, for which Buctoo boxed his ears. He then took it up again, and it was brought to bear on the village. But the Tartar did us again; for he shut both eyes. However, after a good deal of persuasion, he was induced to open one and shut the other, and to peep through the glass. For a second or two he trembled violently, and then groaned heavily—threw down the glass, and commenced rolling down the hill, head over heels, at a most awful pace. The whole batch, some forty, were seized with the same complaint, and down they went after their chief, roaring out, "Hi! ha!" at the top of their voice. Break their necks they could not very easily; but how many of them escaped serious injury I did not stop to ascertain. Upon seeing them all off, I fell down heavily, fracturing my sides with laughter. Buctoo was in the same state, and so were all my servants. We at last saw them, on reaching a piece of level ground, get on their legs, the chief still leading, and bolting for the village, at a pace that nothing would warrant but a tin kettle at their heels.

In about ten minutes we heard the gongs and bells beating and tolling at a great pace, with frightful shouting from men and women, and this lasted for two hours, when all became quiet.

Not a Tartar could be got hold of for two days after this. At last, by sending a small party rather near the village, several men showed themselves, offering us any thing we wanted, if we would only return to our proper side of the snow. This they were told we would do, if they would only show us three or four more days' good sport; but if not we would remain there six months, and turn them all into wild sheep. Upon this they had a consultation, when it was decided that they would show us excellent comfort provided we promised to take our departure in four days, and never come there again. This was duly agreed to, and after some very cautious approaches we got them once more up to our tents. They certainly got their promise, for I had excellent sport, and was therefore bound to fulfil my part of the agreement.

On the fourth day arriving, they were invited to come once more to the tent, and to receive a few trifling rewards for the sport they had shown. Brandy was first served out, and this soon restored confidence, when the distribution of a few knives, looking-glasses, beads, etc., etc., and sundry pieces of red cloth, brought them into good humor. Every thing was going on as well as could be desired, when some unfortunate dispute arose among some of my guides, (not my own servants, but men taken from the last village on our side of the snow,) and Tartars. They knew each other well, having, at a fair held at the foot of the pass, a year's intercourse. These men, I have no doubt, assisted by one of my own men, (and I strongly suspected Buctoo, although he most solemnly denied it,) played them a sad trick. I may here note that almost every Tartar carries a pipe, rudely made of wrought iron, of about the size and shape of the common clay pipe. Being inveterate smokers, a pipe full of good tobacco is one of the most convincing arguments you can employ. While I was at dinner, I ordered some tobacco to be given to them, and it was proposed they should put that in their pouches, and allow some of my men to charge their pipes with their own tobacco, of which they begged their acceptance.

The Tartars, nothing loth, assented, and each man gave his iron pipe to be charged, which was duly done and returned to each owner. Smoking then commenced, and on finishing my dinner and coming outside the tent, I found the Tartars all in a circle, smoking away, and my men, some ten yards from them, and above them, and talking to them. They were also smoking. Thinking nothing of this at the time, I took no notice, and had my chair brought outside, and smoked my segar. In less than five minutes I was considerably astonished on hearing a salvo as of a volley of musketry, and iron pipes flying up and down in all directions. Then a general shout, and off went the Tartars, as if Old Nick was at their heels, halloing most fearfully. They did not run far, but brought up about three hundred yards from where they started, and demanded their pipes back. I asked them what was the matter; when they said they would never smoke English tobacco again, for we smoked with tobacco, and shot with tobacco, and Sheitzan must have been the manufacturer.

Kangaroo Hunting.

Kangarooing in Tasman's Peninsula is essentially a pedestrian sport. I am aware that in an open country, and especially in New South Wales, where the chase is followed on horseback, my assertion may seem like rank heresy.

I have pursued the sport both mounted and on foot, and if a horse enables you occasionally, on comparatively unincumbered ground, to see something more of the run, you must still have pedestrians to hunt the dogs. After all, decide this point as you will, we esteem it the poorest variety of the chase. Some excitement must necessarily attend it, but too much is left to the imagination, and too little of either the game or the dogs is given to the eye.

It is rarely, except when on horseback, that one has the good fortune to be in at the death, or to see the kangaroo pulled down.

The ground is usually hilly, the scrub thick, and the grass high. It is needless to say that on the present occasion we were all on foot. Forestier's Peninsula is no place for a horse, except the traveller be jogging along the rugged and little frequented track which leads to Hobart Town, by a most circuitous route.

Away then we strode, skirting the shore pretty closely, until we came to a valley which had been partially cleared by one of those extensive bush conflagrations which are of annual occurrence.

The forest is fired in several places every summer, with a view to keeping down the scrub, and giving a chance of growth to the grass and the larger forest trees. These burn for several consecutive days, and at night the glare from them, lighting up the adjacent horizon, and the wind at one time whirling along vast clouds of smoke, and again throwing up sheets of flame and myriads of burning particles, produce an effect as grand as can be imagined. Here, then, in the glade, we paused, disposed ourselves in an extended line, slipped four dogs, and gave the word, "go seek."

Away they trotted with nose to the ground, cautiously hunting, crossing and recrossing, but occasionally getting not only out of sight in the long grass, but out of hearing and command. Presently a sharp bark gave the signal of game started, and the next moment we catch a glimpse of the kangaroo in mid air, as he bounds down the declivity in a succession of leaps such as the kangaroos only can accomplish.

There he goes, his tiny ears laid back along his small deer-like head, his forefeet gathered up like a penguin's flappers, and his long stout tail erect in the air. Now bounding aloft, now vanishing as he leaps into the waving grass.

Two more of the dogs have sighted him, and are silently tearing along on his track. Every bound increases his distance from his pursuers, he winds round the base of the hill, to avoid the ascent, but up he must go; this is the only chance for the dogs, for running up hill is the kangaroo's weak point. But now we lose sight of both dogs and kangaroo; a burst of three minutes has sufficed to exhaust our first wind, and to break one of our shins; for tearing through grass as high as one's middle and stumbling over charred stumps and fallen trees, soon reduces one to the "dead beat" predicament. Jerry, alone, thanks to his hard condition, follows the chase.

All the party are now scattered, and after while reassemble by dint of continuous "cooees." Whilst swabbing the perspiration off our brow, one of the dogs makes his appearance, and, trotting slowly back with panting flanks and lolling tongue, throws himself on his side exhausted. His mouth is now carefully examined, and two fingers being inserted, scoop round the fauces. The test is successful; there are traces of blood and fluff. "Bravo! Rattler! Show him—good dog. Show him!" Rattler rises with an effort, and lazily strikes into the bush, to the right. We follow in Indian file, and at about half a mile distant we come upon the kangaroo lying dead, with the second dog, old "Ugly," stretched at its side.

The kangaroo usually found in the Peninsula is not the largest description commonly known in these colonies as the "boomer," or a "forester," but the brush kangaroo, which rarely exceeds seventy pounds in weight; forty is more common. There is a still smaller variety, known as the "wallaby." The brush kangaroo is easily killed by the dogs; a grip in the throat or loins usually suffices. The boomer is a more awkward customer, and, if he can take to the water, he shows fight, and availing himself of his superior height, he endeavors to drown the dogs as they approach him. The kangaroo is a graceful animal, but appears to most advantage when only the upper part of his body is seen. His head is small and deer-shaped, his eyes soft and lustrous, but his tapering superior extremities rise almost pyramidally from a heavy and disproportioned base of hind legs and tail.

The kangaroo dog never mangles his prey although fond of the blood, with a portion of which he is always rewarded.

Jerry now threw himself on the ground beside the game, and, drawing his couteau de chasse, commenced the operation of disemboweling. After ripping up the belly, he thrust in his arm, and drawing out the liver and a handful of coagulated blood, he invited the dogs to partake of it. The carcass being gutted, some dry fern is thrust in, the tail is drawn through the fore legs, and secured with a bit of whipcord, and then the game is suspended over the shoulder—no insignificant weight either. If the kangaroo be very heavy, the hind quarters only are carried, but the skin being of some value, it is not needlessly destroyed.

There is a peculiarity in the stomach of the kangaroo, which I have not seen noticed in descriptions of that animal, but of which I have assured myself by frequent personal observation. On opening the stomach, even while still warm, the grass found in it is swarming with small white worms, about a quarter of an inch in length, and not thicker than a fine thread.

The entire contents of the stomach, even the most recently masticated grass, and grass seems to be its only food, are equally pervaded with these worms, which swarm in myriads, even where no signs of decomposition are perceptible.

Resuming our progress, we presently heard a baying from the dogs, who had again dispersed to hunt. On nearing the spot whence the noise proceeded, we found them assembled round the trunk of a large tree, in the hollow of which was a large wombat, a most unsighly brute, in appearance partaking somewhat of the bear, the pig, and the badger. An average sized one weighs sixty pounds. The head is flat, neck thick, body large, legs short, eyes and ears small: the feet provided with sharp claws for burrowing, three on the hind foot, and an additional one on the fore foot. They make deep excavations in the ground, and live chiefly on roots. The hide is very tough and covered with a coarse wiry hair, and with this defensive armor, and his formidable teeth and claws, the wombat is a customer not much relished by the dogs. It was not till we had stunned our new acquaintance, as he stood at bay in his den, by repeated blows of our sticks on his head, that we were able to drag him out, and cut his throat.

The flesh is eatable, and I have heard that the hams are held in some esteem, but cannot speak from personal experience. On the present occasion none of our party was ambitious of the honor of carrying our defunct friend during the day's march that we had before us; so I contented myself with pocketing his four paws, and leaving the rest of the carcass for formic epicures.

Our destination for the evening was Eagle Hawk Neck, or rather our dining quarters were there fixed, for I proposed to be home some time during the night; and, as we had some twelve miles of fatiguing walking before us, we now circled round towards Flinders' Bay, whence we were to follow the foot track to the "Neck."

It may readily be imagined that bush travelling in the Australian colonies is often an intricate affair; long practice alone can give one assurance and confidence. Few habitues in the Peninsula think of entering it without a pocket compass, flint, and steel, and even the best bushmen have in their day been reduced to the greatest extremities.

For our own part, our ambition never inclined to the adventurous task of exploring the bush, content with the subordinate part of trusting to the superior sagacity of the more experienced; and often have our wonder and admiration been excited by the unerring judgment of our guide, when there was neither sun to direct, nor any opening above or around whereby to obtain a view of the surrounding country.

As we were approaching Flinders' Bay on our return, a kangaroo was started some distance ahead of us; presently I observed an old dog, who was wont to "run cunning," suddenly stop close in front of me. The next moment the game, closely pursued, dropped in a bound, not six yards from where I stood, and before he could rise again, old "Ugly" had his prize by the throat. This proved to be a doe, and on examining her pouch a foetus was found in it, perfectly detached as usual, and about three inches and a half long. The generation, growth, and alimentation of the foetus of the kangaroo and other marsupial animals (ultra interine and detached from the parent, as it appears to be at all stages,) is a mystery in physiology which has yet to be unravelled.

A "medico" who was of our party, did not neglect this opportunity for research. With a view to the investigation of the subject at leisure, he dropped the foetus into his glove for conveyance home.

Outside the station of Flinders' Bay, we came upon a small limpid stream, brawling over a rocky bed, which seemed a suitable place to refresh the inner man with a sandwich, and a thimble full of Cognac. Segars were then lighted, and, shouldering our game, we resumed our route.

The sun was low, when we descended the steep hill whence we opened a view of Eagle Hawk Neck and the Pacific, and after a long and toilsome ascent of the "Saddle," by a path which abounded more in loose sharp stones than any which it has been my misfortune to fall in with. However, refreshment was at hand, which we were quite in condition to appreciate, for we will back a day's kangarooing against any other sport, for giving a zest both to victuals and drink.

Our host, C—, was famous for his kangaroo soup; this is made of the tail of the animal, and when well prepared may vie with any oxtail, if, indeed, it be not superior, having the advantage of a game flavor. The flesh of the kangaroo resembles in taste and appearance that of the hare, though drier and inferior in flavor when roasted. The only part thus cooked is the hind quarter, which should be boned, stuffed, and larded, and after all, the play is not worth the candle. Not so, "kangaroo steamer." To prepare this savory dish, portions of the hind quarter, after hanging for a week, should be cut into small cubical pieces; about a third portion of the fat of bacon should be similarly prepared, and these, together with salt, pepper, and some spice, must simmer gently in a stewpan for three or four hours. No water must enter into the composition, but a little mushroom ketchup added, which served, is an improvement.

Although averse to the diet of bush vermln, so often extolled in these colonies, and although carefully eschewing all parrot pies, red-bill ragouts, black swans, kangaroo rats, porcupines, and such vaunted nastinesses, we strongly contend for the excellence of "kangaroo steamer," as a most savory and appetizing dish. We cannot reproach it with a fault, save its tendency to lead one to excess; the only difficulty is to know when you have had enough.

We were able to do ample justice to the the Alexander Selkirk of his post, reigning in solitary grandeur, for he had not a single associate within ten miles, could always boast of a well-stocked larder and cellar. What with his garden, poultry-yard, and dairy, hunting and sea-fishing, he was tolerably independent of the tri-weekly visits of the boat which brought the commissariat supplies.

THE END