A GREAT DAY WITH GOATS 89 



on some ragged rocks about fifty feet down, and to end 

 its troubles a shot from the edge quickly finished it. 



Mr. Phillips killed his first goat, and before the 

 bunch got away, broke the leg of another. This also got 

 over the edge of the precipice, and had to be finished up 

 from the edge. 



But a strange thing remains to be told. 



By the time Mr. Phillips and I had each fired about 

 two shots of the last round, in the course of which we 

 ran well over to the right in order to command the field, 

 to our blank amazement my first goat, — the dead one! — 

 staggered to his feet, and started off toward the edge of 

 the precipice. It was most uncanny to see a dead animal 

 thus come to life! 



" Look, Director," cried Charlie Smith, " your first 

 goat's come to life! Kill him again! Kill him again, 

 quick! " 



I did so; and after the second killing he remained 

 dead. I regret to say that in my haste to get those goats 

 measured, skinned, and weighed before night, I was so 

 absorbed that I forgot to observe closely where my first 

 shot struck the goat that had to be killed twice. I think 

 however, that it went through his liver and other organs 

 without touching the vital portions of the lungs. 



My first goat was the tallest one of the six we killed 

 on that trip, but not the heaviest. He was a real patri- 

 arch, and decidedly on the downhill side of life. He 

 was so old that he had but two incisor teeth remaining, 

 and they were so loose they were almost useless. He 

 was thin in flesh, and his pelage was not up to the mark 



