MOUFFLON-STALKING IN CYPEUS 359 



with horns perhaps twenty inches long and a white 

 saddle-mark. Watching him till he looked away, we 

 slipped over the ridge and down into the next glen. 

 There we left all our gear, and attacked the face 

 in front of us — a stiff climb. When we were up 

 it I motioned Mehemet to peer over whilst I took 

 breath, but he could see nothing, nor could I when 

 I joined him, though I thought I heard a stone or 

 two rattle on the opposite slope. After we had 

 made a careful search the Turk rolled a rock or two 

 into the valley, but nothing resulted. This seemed 

 conclusive, so I sent Mehemet off to get his boots 

 and my rucksack. 



A consolatory pipe seemed to be the next best 

 thing — consolatory, though the stalk must have been 

 spoiled more by accident than otherwise, for some 

 wood-cutters had commenced work riofht behind us 

 during its duration — so I put the safety - bolt on 

 and commenced to walk, or rather climb up the ridge, 

 which would obviously be our way on. As I was 

 doing so something made me turn my head — and 

 there was the ram ! He was descending from the 

 top of the opposite hill, and crossing my front 

 diagonally at a sling trot. I promptly sat down, 

 and waited for him to stop. This he did. " Click ! " 

 I had forgotten the safety-bolt. Off went the ram 

 again, — not that he could have heard me, for he 

 was three hundred yards away, — so I had to take 

 the running shot. It — possibly the absence of 

 smoke — seemed to puzzle him, for he pulled up, 

 but unfortunately just where a tree hid him from 

 me. Presently he trotted out again, and I fired once 

 more. That shot went very near, for he broke into 

 a gallop, but, evidently failing to locate the danger. 



