We were now reduced to twenty-eight animals, and we knew our muleteers to be so careless and untrustworthy a lot, that we resolved that henceforth one of us should always remain with them and the mules—never, in fact, let them out of our sight. This would ensure the animals being properly cared for, and would be a prevention against the muleteers forming any scheme for desertion. We decided, too, to make very easy marches. We continued to see snow mountains in all directions, and somehow or other managed to steer our way amongst them, either east or north-east, over valleys and plains or stony nullahs, but we were most unfortunate as to finding good grass. It must have been too early in the year, for in many places it was just beginning to sprout.
Owing to the heavy loss to our transport we could only march some four or five miles the next day, which brought us to a big fresh-water lake, completely frozen over, resembling a large white sheet. Here we resolved to lighten our loads, and left on the ground a number of cartridges, horse shoes, cooking utensils, clothes, candles, etc., besides giving the mules and ponies a feast of forty pounds of flour made into bread. Some old pistols, rather heavy ones, which we had brought with us as presents for natives, we allowed the men to carry themselves, on the condition that should we require them as presents we would buy them back from them, otherwise they might retain them for ever. Every one, too, carried a certain number of cartridges, the men doing so under the proviso that we would lend them a rifle when game was close to camp.
[Illustration: LAKE "LIGHTEN" (WE LIGHTENED OUR LOADS HERE).]
To celebrate the occasion we christened this lake "Lake Lighten." The size of this frozen water was deceptive. Our direction took us over a portion of it which we reckoned to be about a mile across, but in reality this turned out to be six miles. On the other side we found good grass, and in a snug corner a very tiny fresh-water lake, or what we should call at home a duck-pond. Here were geese, antelope, and kyang, so we were able to make a substantial addition to our larder, which at that time was in the same state as Mother Hubbard's cupboard. This spot, too, became famous in its way for two events. First, it was here discovered that one of our carbines had been left behind the day before, and the men were so unwilling that none would go back to fetch it. To do more than they were obliged to do was quite against their grain. Secondly, another mule had to be shot, for he was too weak to rise and march. The next day another pony met the same fate, and we began to think our ammunition was more useful for this purpose than for killing game, which, as a rule, was scarce. Our march took us another six miles over the ice, and on the way we narrowly escaped losing one of the best mules, who dropped his hind legs in a crack; luckily, he was extricated unhurt, but he might easily have broken a leg.