Mountain goat hunting
libre 8
Hunting for ibex in the mountains near the Kokpek Gorge in the Zailiyskiy Alatau opened in late fall.
Kokpen Gorge
The Kokpen Gorge cuts the Syugatinsky ridge of the Zailiyskiy Alatau exactly from north to south. The road going along the gorge rises to the pass. High rocks clench the road closely on the sides, like a narrow corridor. There is always a draught in the Kokpek gorge, pleasant in summer and unbearable in winter. The mountain river behaves interestingly here. It disappears at the beginning of the gorge.
Suddenly, ten kilometers later, at the other end of the gorge, the river emerges from the ground, turbulent, talkative, as if happy that it has broken out of its underground captivity and now hastens to share its joy with everyone. At the end the gorge widens its walls a little.
Here, in a picturesque corner of the Kokpek gorge, at the very end of the Zailiyskiy ridge of the Tien-Shan (more information: Pamir-Tyanynskiy speleological country), there is a white cordon house with a red flag fluttering above the roof, among poplars planted by the careful hand of the gamekeeper twenty years ago.
Dog Mushket
The dog Mushket accompanied his master everywhere. It was a mongrel dog. But with his black back and yellow sides he resembled a hound. He was twelve years old and was living out his short life as a dog. But during a hunt for mountain goats he showed all the qualities of a hound dog.
We climbed up the Burunsai for a long time. Musket was dragging behind with indifferent look, as it is supposed to an old dog, as if it was bored with everything and hunting does not cause the slightest excitement.
Nature of Alatau
The last grasshoppers and mares, which had survived the first frosts in the green grass near the water, were still chirping somewhere near the creek. On the cliffs, puffins cried out. Mountain buntings tsked all around. With each step the trail became steeper and steeper. The tiring ascent seemed to have no end.
Before the last, steepest ascent we sat down to rest. The musket did not lie down, but fell near our feet. Apparently, the old dog was as tired as we were.
The hunt was on
But everything has an end - we found ourselves on the pass. From here we could see the whole Sugatinskaya valley at a great distance, yellow spots of herds of mountain goats - gazelles - could be seen on it.
The hunt had begun. The huntsman fixed an effigy on the rocks - the head of a female tek on a stick. The head towered above the stones, and the non-existent body was hidden behind them. The head was visible from afar. The keen eyes of mountain goats would certainly notice it. The huntsman had been convinced of that many times.
Well, everything is ready, we can send Musket!
- said the huntsman.
Where to?
- I did not understand.
For the goats: he will bring them to our very feet! Musket!
The dog, lying down, raised his head and looked tiredly at his master. - Search, Mushket! - half-voiced ordered the huntsman and pointed to the mountains. And suddenly the dog was as if changed! At the word " Search " the weight of the years seemed to be thrown off the dog's shoulders. Musket jumped up, wagging his tail, squealing impatiently and looking into his master's eyes.
- Search, search!
- waved his hand, pointing beyond the pass. With large jumps the dog rushed in the direction the master showed. - Now we'll hide. If the teki are close, Musket will quickly bring them. But time passed and there were no goats. With binoculars I saw a black dot far behind the pass. It was Musket. He was still running. Finally he was out of sight.
Musket chasing goats
More than an hour passed. The silence of the mountain peaks was broken only by the cries of alpine jackdaws. The sun had risen high. It became hot. I had an irresistible desire to sleep ...
Driven!
- suddenly came the muffled voice of the gamekeeper. Sleepiness was blown away like a wind. I grabbed the binoculars: where Musket had been seen for the last time, three goats were trotting quietly towards us. Every now and then they stopped and looked back. After them Musket appeared from behind the bend. He silently and leisurely trotted along the trail far behind the goats. Soon they disappeared for a long time in the gully and again appeared much closer: the goats and Musket behind them.
Musket is chasing the goats! At one of the passes the goats turned off the path and ran downhill. Musket rushed after them as fast as he could, blocked their way and turned back to the trail, which went straight to us. Musket acted like a real shepherd dog! Now he was already pushing at them, rushing them and barking loudly as if to warn us.
Mountain goats on the pass
There was a clatter of pebbles on the placer, a moment more - and three mountain goats galloped out on the pass right in front of me! I raised my rifle and began to aim at the front bearded one. But then the irreparable thing happened - worrying, I too carelessly put my finger on the trigger, and the shot rang out prematurely, kicking up a fountain of dust in front of the goats. Like madmen they sprang aside and disappeared behind the rocks.
And in their place stood Musket, not the one who had followed us up the pass like an old nag. His ears were raised, his head was held high. He crouched vigorously on his hind legs, ready to leap, and looked around eagerly, looking for goats. Suddenly our eyes met - Mushket wrinkled his nose, gleamed his teeth for a moment and resolutely ran down to the house with his tail down.
Musket, back!
- I shouted, but the dog didn't even look back.
How did you miss?
- The huntsman's angry voice sounded behind me.
- Mushket drove the goats right to you, we almost trampled them! Bring back Musket, the goats are not far away!
- I was worried.
You can't bring Musket back now - he's offended! If you miss, he takes offense and runs home. If you had killed a goat, he would have brought you another one, but now the hunt is over. Let's go home.
I walked back with the feeling of a pupil who got an "F".
