CHAMOIS. 539 



this time of the year. As the day advanced the 

 mist and vapour vanished, and the outlines of every 

 peak were seen in bold relief against the sky. As 

 the foreground grew more distinct, whilst looking 

 below amongst the latchen, I saw three chamois 

 leisurely browsing on the young branches, quite 

 unconscious of our presence. Although far out of 

 shot, there was every prospect of my being able 

 to get within range, for the latchen afforded 

 excellent cover, and what little air there was 

 stirring blew up the ravine. Desiring Karl to 

 remain motionless and watch their movements, I 

 disencumbered myself of my riick-sack, and with 

 noiseless steps crept towards them, hardly raising 

 my head lest I should attract their attention. 

 This was not easy work, for it is difficult ap- 

 proaching game in such situations. After some 

 very careful stalking I got within three hundred 

 yards' range, and, peering through a clump of 

 latchen, saw that they had all stopped feeding, and 

 were gazing inquiringly in my direction, which 

 long experience told me was a certain sign that 



