Zavar Drawing

The Last King of Chitral; Part 2 - The Ditch In the tall mountains of Chitral Was a village too remote to be famed And in it lived a shepherd Who requested not to be named. The harsh mountain weather Doesn’t make wealthy shepherds. For this is the land of rock and ice That was the snow leopard’s. A silent decade had gone by Since last the beast was found. The shepherds didn’t complain ‘Bout the “chitah” not being around. But soon they realised That sheep began to vanish. Could it be the “chitah” That was long ago banished? For an indigent shepherd Each sheep was dear. Their retaliation Would soon be clear. They dug ditches With a carcass at the bottom To draw in the leopard And stone him when they got him. Our shepherd was willing To hurl a rock. He had taken a hit On losing livestock. While walking one night through the thin air That made him pant and puff He walked past one of his ditches And thought he heard a chuff. Twelve feet below the ground Lay the most majestic being. With fur of ghostly white and grey And eyes of palest green. Those green eyes had felt loss But never shed a tear Never flinching although resigned To the end that drew near. He reached for a rock that lay close by And went to make the kill. But those deep piercing eyes Froze him icy still. The next day drew light With chatter among the shepherds For in one ditch lay an eaten carcass But no sign of the snow leopard. Our shepherd cannot explain What came over him that day. The day he let the last king Climb up and run away.