102 THE IMAGE OF WAE 



of the herd. I think it is a good buck, and wish 

 I had a telescope to make sure.^ Shall I disregard 

 the extra thirty yards ? No distance can be harder 

 to judge than one like this, down a sheer cliff. I adjust 

 the sight, and as I do so the big one rises and comes 

 towards the others. In an instant my cap is on the 

 rock, and the barrels rest on it. Now he stops, but 

 only for a few seconds. Now again. This time I do 

 not forget I am almost vertically above him, and 

 sight between his knees. Bang ! and he is kicking 

 on the snow ! 



The herd had not the slightest idea whence the 

 danger threatened, although I stood up, and the dog's 

 yells might have guided them. After racing here 

 and there, four of them moved slowly off up the 

 snow. I was watching my quarry, and when I saw 

 the poor beast stretched out stiff I returned to the 

 dog and attempted to get down to the snow-field. 

 (I may here remark that this shot was heard in camp, 

 and was fired at exactly two o'clock, so that the 

 stalk must have taken about four hours. Such, how- 

 ever, is the fascination of the sport, that I never 

 realised that I had been going for six hours on a 

 slice of bread and butter and a cup of tea at 5.30 a.m.) 

 After descending a shaly piece of cliff some furlong 

 to my right, I came to a place where I thought I 

 could get down ; and did so, lifting the dog down, but 

 he absolutely refused to come farther. It certainly 

 was very rotten stuff, though coarse grass grew on 

 it ; but a little farther on I found out that to go on 

 I must do the next forty feet in ojie, and that into 

 the crevasse formed by the snow and the base of the 

 cliff. So I clambered back, lifted the dog back again, 



* This is a beginner's error. The biggest chamois of a herd is never a 

 buck, except, of course, in the rutting season. 



