1 40 A SPORTSMAN'S EDEN. 



himself up again and scrambled off through the 

 timber, never showing me again enough to fire at. 

 Hurrying breathlessly after him, we almost ran 

 into him in the next 200 yards, and this time, as 

 I had a clear view of his shaggy bulk, I dropped 

 him, dead beyond all doubt. To our surprise, 

 we found this was not my wounded goat, but 

 another ; so, leaving him, we climbed on up to the 

 crest, looking over which we found the first great 

 ' man-sheep/ as Toma called him, whose siesta we 

 watched from below, stretching himself and listen- 

 ing as if uncertain whence the sound of my shots 

 had come. He was a magnificently white and 

 bearded patriarch, and I was sufficiently annoyed 

 when he rose after my first shot and went off 

 along the cliff's face as if nothing had happened. 

 And now followed a strange chase. The goat 

 was on a narrow ledge and going leisurely. I 

 could not get to him unseen, and would not give 

 him up. My only chance was to follow him on 

 to the ledge, where, if he looked back, he must 

 see me. For some time he did not look back, 

 but sauntered along not a bit lame, but quite 

 unconcerned. I could have shot him at any 

 moment, but not so as to kill him neatly, his 

 ragged quarters being all I could see of him. I 

 was beginning to dislike the line of country which 

 seemed to him sufficiently easy for a wounded 



