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