366 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



moufflon dashed off. We saw no more game that 

 morning. 



Tills was the only standing shot I had yet fired, 

 and fearing my performance might prejudice me in 

 the old man's eyes, on my return to camp I put up 

 the end of an oil-tin at about 120 yards' range, and 

 shot five consecutive bullets into it. This quite 

 reassured him, and was, I may add, a creditable 

 performance for a rifle of this class fired without a 

 rest. 



Anastasi told me, through our cook and interpreter 

 — a capital fellow by the way, though answering 

 to the curious name, for a Cypriote villager, of 

 Mentschikoff — that I had been in too great a hurry, 

 and that if I had come up nearer to him I should 

 have seen more of the ram, and had a better chance. 

 My own opinion was, and is, that had I not fired 

 when I did I should probably not have had a shot 

 at all, as a few yards farther would have carried the 

 beast out of sight and over the hill-top. 



Next day the old man said I had wounded this 

 ram in the shoulder, but this was a bit of blarney 

 meant to soothe my feelings. 



A very wet night followed, and my men seemed 

 reluctant to turn out on the following squally, misty 

 morning. We did, however, go out for some three 

 or four hours, but I saw no moufflon, though whilst 

 I was away from them for a minute or two on the 

 eastern edge of the big ravine, they claimed 'to have 

 seen two rams — one as big as a donkey ; and no 

 doubt they did, for they were very excited. Anastasi 

 sent Mehemet round to head them back, but nothing 

 came of the manoeuvre. This was probably the big 

 ram I had seen thereabouts before, and if so, as he 



