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Well, here I go with some requested tells´n´pictures about a hunt trip to the old Pakistan 16 years ago (my God!!, it is incredible how fast the time goes by. Tomorrow I´ll be a fossil).

A thousand times sorry for my basic English and for the extension too. I am including some photos to make this more standable. I also apologize for their bad quality as have been taken from the originals with a bad digital camera.

I kindly ask our friend Iqbal to correct me with names and other points or facts where my memory was not accurate.

PART ONE.- THE SIND DESERT.
The first part of the trip in the Sind happened without noticeable incidents. We travelled from Karachi to the desertic Dureji by car and spent 5 or 6 days looking for the Sind Ibex and the Baluchi Urial. Our base camp there was in the house of a tribal chief man of that part of the Sind; Iqbal said that it had to be Saleh Bothani, and this name sounds to me, so I would say that it was him. What I do remember very well was the hospitality received by him and his whole male family. (For those of you not knowing this, I have to say that, due to traditions, never saw a single woman in somebody else´s house).
So we did alright taking a very nice Ibex, a little bit shorter than we would have liked to, due to a too optimistic guess of our local guide. One important thing, amongst others, to learn before travelling to hunt an unfamiliar species, is to try to guess its size according to the distance and bodysize. Many surprises can be avoided, as certain animals look much bigger that they are in fact. You see some tremendous horns above the body but what you don´t know is that that body is very small. This is what happened when I saw the goat.
My first shocked experience took place right after the good long shot. The local guide and the other 2 assistants started a crazy run to the goat to try to finally kill it according to the “Halal” ceremony. None prevented me against that and I was amazed of what I was seeing. They reached the Ibex when it was still breathing, and made a hole with a knife on its neck, while blessing it in the Name of Allah and looking to Meca´s direction. (Iqbal can explain this much better than me). This ceremony is obligatory before muslims can eat an animal, unless it is for severe surviving reasons.
Away from the toughest mountainous country of the Ibex, we found and hunted the Baluchi Urial by riding camels, that we also used to climb the first steps of the mountains. Another new experience.
This beautiful sheep is rigorously described as different a subspecies by famous Raul Valdez on his book Sheeps and Goats of the World. I say this because some others biologists think that this sheep is nothing but an Afghan Urial.
Due to the lack of hunts in the area, approaching and shooting was a fairly easy thing, compared with other mountains hunts. As you can see by the picture, it was a very nice ram that was also finalized by the “Halal” ceremony.

"A view to a Kill" Front rocks where the Ibex was taken.

"The Sindh Ibex, beautiful but shorter than it should´ve"

"Neck cut; the Halal, now they can eat it"

"Big and wonderful Baluchi Urial; full curl"

PART TWO.- DOUBLE TROUBLE BOAR.

Before the second part of our trip to the Salt Range Mountains in the Punjab could start, we stopped by the city of Lahore that was reached by air from Karachi. We were lodged there at our outfitter´s own house in that city (I think he had a house in almost every important city of Pakistan). What I better remember of Lahore was the relaxing Asiatic atmosphere of the place; quietness, huge inside baths, great beds… perfect after several days of dusty mountain hunting, perfect for tired feet.
As I was saying, before we could go to the town of Kalabaj (is this the right name, Iqbal?), we spent a couple of days of boar hunting. We were lucky taking two big males of which I have no one single picture as were taken on the first day and the camera was forgotten. On the second day I shot a small male that brought me a couple of serious troubles.
As the day before, we hired the services of some local beaters with a few dogs. The outfitter left me on an strategic place and the beaters went to a dry reed field that they were willing to burn out. After a quarter of an hour or so, I saw a boar running out of the reeds to where I was waiting; some dogs were also coming after him something like 60 or 70 yards behind.
When I thought it was time to shoot I aimed and fired without apparent results. Reloaded, aimed again and new shot when the pig was turning a bit to its left. Apparently no results either. I couldn´t take another shot as it was out of my sight already. Then the dogs reached the place, went into a high dry grass place and started to bark madly. So I knew they stopped the boar or, moreover, the boar stopped for some reason and the dogs surrounded him. I came up running but carefully. By that time and from I don´t know where, some beaters appeared by my side and walked together to the place of the fight (some dogs were biting the hog already).
After some minutes of waiting the opportunity to shot safely, trying not to fire any dog, I finally took a shot that killed the boar. As I said, it was just a small male with no more than one and a half inches of outgrowing tusks.
Suddenly someone started to shout on me without any reason that I could decipher. That man took my arm like making me going somewhere to see something. I violently got rid of him and then a I saw a dog laying on the ground, with blood coming out of a hole of its neck. Then I understood that the man was blaming me for shooting his dog. Another man followed him on shouting, and getting louder every passing second. I was so confused to think about properly, so I started to walk back and I reload the 7-08 I had on loan, but without aiming anyone. But I have to say I was afraid.
My outfitter was just coming in that moment and cooled down the situation. I explained that it was just about impossible to have shot that dog, and in case I would, the dog would have die instantaneously with a neck shot like that. So we came to the conclusion that the small boar sticked its neck with its slim tusks during the fight. He was wounded but not seriously, thou the outgoing blood made that man think about a shot. What a moment!!!
But things didn´t stop here. After a couple of unwished pictures, I was helped to cut the jaws. So while I was pushing the snout of the pig for the assistant to cut between the lower and upper jaws, the skin was resisting to be cut. He also pushed strongly and the bloody pointed knife came out cutting the skin and ending right on my hand. I just felt like big knock and right after my left hand, arm and knee were fully covered with the red fluid.
The outfitter took me to the jeep quickly and then to the hospital for a cure. I was loosing blood in spite that had my left hand tied against one of the overturning metal bars of the Willie. Luckily we got in time to the hospital and after half an hour of sewing, everything was alright again.
Please Iqbal, explain what happens on a Muslim country when you have been cut by a knife that was being used for cutting off a pig.

"Beaters and hound dogs"

"Young male boar of the double trouble"

"After being cured at the hospital and still Knocked Out"

PART THREE.- A RECORD WITH TROOPS
The last part of the trip to the wonderful Pakistan occurred on an isolated location of the Punjab Province called (please Iqbal, correct if wrong) Kalabajh. This small town is placed northwest of Lahore, and accessible by a beautiful old iron “railway-like” bridge over the Indus River, probably built by the British when India was part of the Empire.
Right before crossing the bridge, two trucks full of soldiers where waiting for us, and surprisingly were there to conduct us to the palace of the Azam Khan family which was going to serve as a base camp. AND WHAT A CAMP!!! A fantastic small Palace stopping the waters of the Indus River, surrounded by the dry mountains typical of that part of the Country. So we got there flanked by a numerous “de Corps Troops”.
I don´t think I can describe the inside of our camp. Don´t imagine gold filled walls and things of new rich´s bad taste like that. The high class of the building was based in very different things. I don´t know what but it was on the air, I could smell it.
So we spent 3 days there, where we had the chance of having a formal dinner with our noble host, a Cambridge educated gentleman that gave us his best treatment during our stay with him. As a farming engineer he was very proud of his farm´s projects based in the introduction of a great number of Tropical fruit plants of a very wide world´s origin, that we had the chance to carefully see by ourselves.
On the first hunting day I got familiar with the Punjab Urial, of which I saw a good number of rams. The measures I took as a good reference from the SCI Record Book was anything bigger than 25 inches.
For some reasons the population of the Punjab Urial, concentrated in the Salt Range (also called Salt Range Urial) has seculary suffered from different sickness and ills, that sometimes lowed the sheep numbers to a very severe levels, concerning to big males mainly. This is what I was told but I ignore the reason why mainly to old rams.
We hunted accompanied with the 2 trucks with soldiers when the Nwabazada Azam Khan came with us on the first morning. And more over, I saw medium-heavy artillery placed in the tops of the mountains like to prevent an attack.
So I asked and so was told, than the brother of our host (that was the head of the family) was killed by a kind of guerrilla when he was driving around somewhere. So our host increased the level of protection of his family (Iqbar, maybe you can put some light in this).
On the second day, 4 or 6 soldiers went with us for the hunt, serving as protection too. Around 10 in the morning we saw a group of three big males, where manly one looked huge to me. After half an hour stalking I had the chance to take a difficult shot that I missed. The animals where going up a gullet and never stopped. So I took the shot to the back of that big ram. They passed over the other side. Along with my hunter Nassir, we re-found and approached the group close to two and a half hours latter. I saw the big one again and this time I promised that I thought I was watching an Argali instead of a Moufloniform sheep. Close to a 200 yards one shot kill made the Urial kiss the ground.
Nassir and I were one man when we got embraced; we shouted, we danced and we thanked Allah for being so lucky. We measured the horn, just for curiosity (as I´m not too fond about measures and that stuff, except for having a valid reference), and it was well passed 31 inches long.
This part of the Country is definitely not the Caucasus, the Himalayas or the Rocky Mts., but as well as almost all sheep and goats of the world, the hunt can get tough if you don´t comply with the first animal you see. If not because of a big mountain, a certain hunting situation can make you sweat as you may do in the highest mountain.

"At the palace´s back door dressed with the pakistani suite" That was my best discover for mountain hunting. I still use it weather permiting. It is just about like going nude, or isn´t it Iqbal"

"The fantastic Punjab Urial"

Well, reached this point I think I better finish these Pakistani tells that made me so happy in the past. I wouldn´t like to abuse of your comprehension with this rather flat English of mine. Sorry for the faults and if my memory betrayed me in some aspects, names, places or whatever.

The Preacher