in loudest tones, calling alternately on Allah and Shaitan to testify to the truth of his warnings. Zurfluh, however, did not go very far. The wall of cliff was too long for a rush, even if it had not been impracticably smooth and steep. We turned perforce to the ice, and after some most thrilling performances of the tight-rope and long-jump character, emerged on the level glacier. I am bound to admit that during this passage the follower of the Prophet moved with a freedom, certainty, and ease, a perfection of balance and an utter disregard of danger, that the unbelievers could not pretend to emulate.
Our difficulties were now over, and a short distance further down, we saw, in the far distance, undoubted cows grazing on the slopes above the glacier. Zurfluh at once broke into a run, pointing out that the cows were evidently on the way to be milked, and unless we could arrive in time to interrupt this process we should find all the milk turned sour. About 6.30 p.m. our frantic efforts were rewarded, and we reached the kosh whilst the milking was in full progress. We succeeded in securing some gallon and a half of delicious milk in our indiarubber water-bag. The pails used by the natives are always sour, and from Zurfluh's point of view entirely spoilt any milk that went into them. It is needless to remark that milking a restive cow into a somewhat narrow-mouthed, collapsible, indiarubber bag is a performance requiring much patience and tact, and
