ON THE EDGE OF THE SNOW 



The sun is drawing near the edge of the Rach- 

 Kaar, and I was shooting right into it, so I feel 

 somewhat doubtful about the success of the shot. 

 I fancy I saw the chamois give a sort of flounder 

 though, as he disappeared over the big rock on 

 which he was standing. In any case I have not 

 seen him go away. 



A chamois-drive, enjoyable at any time, is still 

 more so when one has a wide view of mountain. 

 There are then almost always chamois in sight, and 

 the interest is sustained and one's attention kept 

 continually at the highest stretch. 



It is bitterly cold now, for the sun has sunk 

 behind the great mountain, and we are in the shade. 

 One or two beaters are already visible on the top 

 of the ridge, standing out black against the bright- 

 ness of the sky. There has been firing from the 

 right, but we are too far away to see the result of 

 the shots. It is the most difficult thing in the 

 world, too, owing to the deceptive echo, to locate 

 the report of a rifle, and to be sure whether the 

 firing comes from the other guns, or from the 

 beaters. 



Suddenly two chamois, that have been for a long 

 time hesitating by which route to escape, evidently 

 determine to break through on the flank. From 

 their direction we know, that if nothing changes it, 

 they will pass at one point within a hundred and 



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