The Cliff Climbers<br />A Sequel to "The Plant Hunters" by Mayne Reid (best chinese ebook reader .TXT) 📗

As the ibex kept its ground, without showing any signs of retreating, or even moving a muscle of its body, they remained watching it. Not, however, in silence: for as the animal was standing as if to have its portrait painted, Karl, in words addressed to his two companions, but chiefly intended for the instruction of Caspar, proceeded to execute that very task.

“The ibex,” said he, “is an animal whose name has been long famous, and about which the closet naturalists have written a great deal of nonsense—as they have about almost every other animal on the earth. After all that has been said about it, it is simply a goat—a wild goat, it is true, but still only a goat—having all the habits, and very much of the appearance characteristic of the domestic animal of this name.

“Every one knows that the common goat exists in as many varieties as the countries it inhabits. Indeed, there are more kinds of goats than countries: for it is not uncommon to meet with three or four sorts within the boundaries of a single kingdom—as in Great Britain itself. These varieties differ almost as much from each other as the ‘breeds’ of dogs; and hence there has been much speculation among zoologists, as to what species of wild goat they have all originally sprung from.

“Now, it is my opinion,” continued the plant-hunter, “that the tame goats found among different nations of the earth have not all descended from the same stock; but are the progeny of more than one wild species—just as the domesticated breeds of sheep have sprung from several species of wild sheep; though many zoologists deny this very plain fact.”

“There are different species of wild goats, then?” said Caspar, interrogatively.

“There are,” replied the plant-hunter, “though they are not very numerous—perhaps in all there may be about a dozen. As yet there are not so many known to zoologists—that is, not a dozen that have been identified and described as distinct species; but no doubt when the central countries, both of Asia and Africa—with their grand chains of mountains—have been explored by scientific naturalists, at least that number will be found to exist.

“The speculating systematists—who decide about genera and species, by some slight protuberance upon a tooth—have already created a wonderful confusion in the family of the goats. Not contented with viewing them all as belonging to a single genus, they have divided them into five genera—though to most of the five they ascribe only one species!—thus uselessly multiplying names, and rendering the study of the subject more complicated and difficult.

“There can be no doubt that the goats, both wild and tame—including the ibex, which is a true wild goat—form of themselves a separate family in the animal kingdom, easily distinguishable from sheep, deer, antelopes, or oxen. The wild goats often bear a very close resemblance to certain species of wild sheep; and the two are not to be distinguished from each other, by the goats being covered with hair and the sheep with wool—as is generally the case with tame breeds. On the contrary, both sheep and goats in a wild state have hairy coats—the sheep as much as the goats; and in many instances the hair of both is quite as short as that of antelopes or deer. Even where there are almost no external marks to distinguish wild goats from certain kinds of wild sheep, there are found moral characteristics which serve as guides to the genus. The goat is bolder, and of a fiercer nature; and its other habits, even in the wild state, differ essentially from those of the wild sheep.

“The ibex which we see above us,” continued Karl, looking up to the quadruped upon the cliff, “is neither more nor less than a wild goat. It is not the only species of wild goat inhabiting the Himalayas; for there is the ‘tahir,’ a stronger and larger animal than it; and it is believed that when these great mountains have been thoroughly ransacked (Karl here smiled at the very unscientific word he had made use of), there will turn up one or two additional species.

“It is not the only species of ibex neither,” continued he, “for there is one found in the European Alps, known by the name of ‘steinboc;’ another, in the Pyrenees, called the ‘tur;’ a third, in the Caucasus, the ‘zac;’ and one or two others in the mountains of Africa.

“With regard to the animal now before, or rather above us,” continued Karl, “it differs very little from others of the same family; and as both its appearance and habits have been very ably described by a noted sportsman, who was also an accomplished naturalist, I cannot do better than quote his description: since it gives almost every detail that is yet authentically known of the Himalayan ibex.

“‘The male,’ writes this gentleman author, ‘is about the size of the tahir (here he speaks of the other well-known species of Himalayan wild goat, and which is itself much larger than any of the domesticated kinds). Except just after changing their coats, when they are of a greyish hue, the general colour of the ibex is a dirty yellowish brown. I have, however, killed the younger animals, both male and female, with their coats as red as that of a deer in his red coat; but never saw an old male of that colour, for the reason, I imagine, that he lives much higher, and sheds his hair much later in the season. The hair is short, something in texture like that of the burrell and other wild sheep; and in the cold weather is mixed with a very soft downy wool, resembling the shawl-wool of Thibet. This and the old hair is shed in May and June; and in districts occupied by the flocks at that season the bushes and sharp corners of rocks are covered with their cast-off winter coats. The striking appearance of the ibex is chiefly owing to the noble horns: which nature has bestowed upon it. In full-grown animals the horns, which curve gracefully over the shoulders, are from three to four feet in length along the curve, and about eleven inches in circumference at the base. Very few attain a greater length than four feet; but I have heard of their being three inches longer. Their beards, six or eight inches in length, arc of shaggy black hair. The females, light greyish-brown in colour, are hardly a third the size of the males; and their horns are round and tapering, from ten inches to a foot in length. Their appearance upon the whole is clean-made, agile, and graceful.

“‘In the summer they everywhere resort to the highest accessible places where food can be found—often to a part of the country several marches distant from their winter haunts. This migration commences as soon as the snow begins to disappear; and is very gradually performed—the animals receding from hill to hill, and remaining a few days upon each.

“‘At this season the males keep in large flocks, apart from the females; and as many as a hundred may occasionally be seen together. During the heat of the day they rarely move about, but rest and sleep—either on the beds of snow in the ravines, or on the rocks and shingly slopes of the barren hill-sides, above the limits of vegetation. Sometimes, but very rarely, they will lie down on the grassy spots where they have been feeding. Towards evening they begin to move, and proceed to their grazing-grounds—which are often miles away. They set out walking slowly at first; but, if they have any considerable distance before them, soon break into a trot; and sometimes the whole flock will go as hard as they can lay legs to the ground. From what we could gather from the natives, we concluded that they remain in these high regions until the end of October; when they begin to mix with the females, and gradually descend to their winter resorts. The females do not wander so much or so far—many remaining on the same ground throughout the year—and those that do visit the distant hills are generally found lower down than the males, seldom ascending above the limits of vegetation. They bring forth their young in July, having generally two at a birth; though, like other gregarious animals, many are frequently found barren.

“‘The ibex are wary animals, gifted with very sharp sight and an acute sense of smell. They are very easily alarmed, and so wild, that a single shot fired at a flock is often sufficient to drive them away from that particular range of hills they may be upon. Even if not fired at, the appearance of a human being near their haunt is not unfrequently attended with the same result. Of this we had many instances during our rambles after them, and the very first flock of old males we found gave us a proof. They were at the head of the Asrung valley, and we caught sight of them just as they were coming down the hill to feed—a noble flock of nearly a hundred old males. It was late in the day, and we had a long way to return to camp. Prudence whispered, “Let them alone till to-morrow,” but excitement carried the day, and we tried the