And while they talked, the voices of the snow-waters round them diminished one by one as the night-frost choked and clogged the runnels.
'How he stood up against us!' said a Spiti man admiring.

'I remember an old ibex, out Ladakh-way, that Dupont Sahib missed on a shoulder-shot, seven seasons back, standing up just like him.

Dupont Sahib was a good shikarri.' 'Not as good as Yankling Sahib.' The Ao-chung man took a pull at the whisky-bottle and passed it over.

'Now hear me--unless any other man thinks he knows more.' The challenge was not taken up.
'We go to Shamlegh when the moon rises.

There we will fairly divide the baggage between us.