The Last Footprints of the Ooreen The Lost Ooreen of Gilgit: Reconstructing the Former Range and Decline of the Urial in the Lower Gilgit Valley

By  Syed Shamsuddin

"Ooreen Dar Marak toh amoshae"

A local legend in Gilgit recounts that whenever a Ladakh urial crosses a mountain ridge to the other side, it leaves behind every memory of the hardships and dangers it has endured. The ridge, in folklore, marks not merely a physical boundary but a symbolic threshold beyond which past suffering is forgotten and life begins anew.

The Last Ooreen of Gilgit

The following account is based primarily on local oral narratives that have been transmitted across generations in the lower Gilgit Valley. Although these recollections are broadly consistent with the ecology of the region and the known habitat preferences of the species concerned, they have yet to be substantiated through documentary evidence such as hunting records, forestry files, or the writings of early administrators and explorers. Accordingly, the observations presented here should be regarded as a historical-ecological reconstruction founded upon oral testimony rather than as conclusively established historical fact.

The animal referred to in these narratives is the Urial (Ovis vignei), locally known in the Shina language as Ooreen (also rendered as Ureen in some transliterations). Despite being colloquially described as a "mountain goat," the Urial is, in fact, a species of wild sheep. It is taxonomically distinct from the Himalayan Ibex (Capra sibirica), which is a true wild goat and typically inhabits much higher and more rugged alpine terrain.

According to elderly residents of Gilgit, the Ooreen once occurred in considerable numbers along the lower slopes and foothills surrounding present-day Oshikhandas, Harathingdas (later known as Jalalabad), Danyore, and adjoining localities. These recollections relate to the period when these areas were first brought under systematic irrigation during the late 1930s and early 1940s. Prior to agricultural expansion, much of the landscape reportedly consisted of open, semi-arid shrublands and natural grazing grounds that provided suitable habitat for the Urial.

Local tradition further maintains that, with the introduction of irrigation channels and the cultivation of wheat, barley, and other crops, herds of Ooreen frequently descended from the surrounding hills to graze upon the newly established fields. These incursions were reportedly common enough to become a recurring concern for the early settlers, who regarded the animals as both an impressive feature of the landscape and a challenge to their livelihoods.

From an ecological perspective, these accounts appear entirely plausible. Urials are well adapted to dry, open hillsides and frequently undertake seasonal movements in search of food. During winter and early spring, when forage at higher elevations becomes scarce, they naturally descend to lower elevations where vegetation is more abundant. Newly cultivated fields would have offered an especially attractive source of nutritious forage, making such crop-raiding behaviour entirely consistent with the known ecology of the species.

The gradual disappearance of the Ooreen from the lower Gilgit Valley is likewise explicable through a combination of environmental and human-induced factors. Foremost among these was the steady expansion of agriculture, which transformed natural grazing grounds into cultivated land and permanently altered the landscape. Increasing human settlement inevitably reduced the extent of suitable habitat while disturbing the seasonal movement patterns of wildlife.

Hunting also appears to have played a significant role. Long before modern wildlife conservation laws were introduced, Urials were widely hunted for their meat and their distinctive horns, and sustained hunting pressure would have accelerated the decline of already diminishing populations.

Competition with expanding numbers of domestic sheep and goats may have further reduced the availability of forage, while diseases transmitted from livestock to wild ungulates cannot be ruled out. In subsequent decades, the construction of roads, continued urban expansion, and the fragmentation of natural habitats would have further isolated any surviving populations, eventually causing the species to retreat into increasingly remote and inaccessible areas.

At present, no definitive documentary evidence has been identified to confirm the historical presence of Urials in the lower reaches of Gilgit. Nevertheless, several categories of archival material may yet provide valuable corroboration. These include wildlife reports prepared during the British Gilgit Agency period, hunting diaries maintained by British Political Officers and military personnel, early Forest and Game Department records, historical photographs, and memoirs of early residents. Equally valuable would be carefully documented oral testimonies from elderly inhabitants whose recollections predate the profound landscape changes that occurred after the mid-twentieth century.

Whether or not future archival research confirms every aspect of these oral traditions, they preserve an important ecological memory of the region. Across northern Pakistan, the expansion of agriculture, infrastructure, and human settlements has progressively displaced wildlife from landscapes where it once flourished. The story of the Ooreen appears to reflect this broader pattern of environmental transformation.

If these oral accounts are substantially accurate, the disappearance of the Ooreen from the lower Gilgit Valley represents far more than the local extinction of a single wild species. It symbolizes the remarkable ecological transition of Gilgit over the course of less than a century—from a landscape of open shrublands inhabited by native wild ungulates to one dominated by cultivated fields, expanding settlements, and urban development.

The recollections of the older generation therefore deserve to be documented with care. Even where oral tradition awaits confirmation from archival records, it constitutes an invaluable source for reconstructing the environmental history of Gilgit-Baltistan. Preserving these memories may ultimately help bridge the gap between historical ecology, local knowledge, and modern conservation, while illuminating a little-known chapter in the natural heritage of the region.