72 STALKS ABROAD 



" Higher up, man ! Higher up ! D n it ! Lift 

 yourself higher ! " 



With agonised and conscious care which tried 

 its best to eliminate the unwelcome presence of the 

 ewe, I obeyed, and pulled the rifle up beside me. 

 The ram, stern on, a hundred and fifty yards away, 

 turned his head. Then, as a little spirt of snow 

 shot up just over his back, he turned again and 

 slowly followed the coquettish ewe. 



" Over him ! " cried Henry, resigned desperation 

 in his tone. An ominous silence succeeded a second 

 miss. Then the ram turned his side for a second 

 and I fired again. 



" You've broken his leg ! " I heard a murmur 

 from behind, but the ram still held on. Round the 

 turn of the gully went the ewes and along the 

 opposite side, the ram last and broadside to me. In 

 spite of my bad shooting, I managed to take ad- 

 vantage of the chance he gave me, and as the last 

 ewe vanished over the skyline, he went rolling 

 down the steep slope of the gully. 



" We've got him at last, Henry ! " I cried, as 

 we made for him, but I thought even then that 

 his answer lacked the joy which the end of our 

 stalk should have brought. As we got closer a 

 horrible suspicion seized me, a suspicion which in- 

 creased as I raised the curving horns out of the 

 snow. They seemed to have shrunk and their grace- 

 ful lines to have shortened. It was not the big 

 ram at all! I had little doubt, as I examined him 



