64 STALKS ABROAD 



the hill in their tracks, and on our way heard 

 two distant shots which I knew must come from 

 Burton. The little band of sheep kept steadily on, 

 round a rocky crag, and so out of sight. 



It was very bad going, and among some ice- 

 covered rocks I slipped and bruised my knee pain- 

 fully. I was picking myself up rather ruefully, 

 feeling, if possible, even more down on my luck 

 than before, when Henry, who was in front, drew 

 back quietly and looked round to see where I was. 

 At the same instant I saw some ewes with their 

 backs turned staring intently before them. Joining 

 Henry, I peeped round the corner, and saw a great 

 struggle in progress. What had happened was 

 this. Burton's shots, as I afterwards discovered, 

 had been at a couple of rams. Missing them, the 

 pair had wandered over to my corrie and had just 

 hit off the lot at which I had fired as they came 

 down the hill. Hence the tournament which was 

 in progress as we caught them up. The big ram 

 was at it, hammer and tongs, with one of the 

 strangers, whose pal watched the struggle from 

 behind a fir. About a hundred and eighty yards 

 off, as he advanced a step, I got a good chance, 

 of which, much to my astonishment, I took advan- 

 tage. My glasses were covered with steam, I was 

 shaken by my fall, my sleeves were full of snow, 

 and I was puffing like an energetic old dowager 

 I once saw dancing a two-step with a youth of nine- 

 teen ! The admiring circle of ewes took but little 



