SHEEP AND GOATS 267 



made, and stopped, staggered, and subsided. The 

 herd went on without a pause until they got to the 

 sky-line, then stopped dead, as if by word of com- 

 mand, staring straight back at where I lay. It was 

 a long shot, but I chanced it with the .303. I heard 

 a smack, but saw no dust fly, and the sheep vanished 

 out of sight. I looked at Toba, and he nodded. I 

 took a look at number one as he lay, a beauty indeed, 

 56 by 19 if he is an inch, and went on after the rest. 

 It was a long, weary chase. After a bit the wounded 

 ram separated from the herd and lay down now and 

 again. I went on tracking for a long time before 

 I got a sight of him. He must have led us a good 

 4 miles over the hill-tops, until at last I made him 

 out crossing the valley we had come up in the 

 morning. We watched him slowly ascend the 

 opposite slope, stopping now and again, until he 

 got to a shelf, and there he lay down. We then 

 decided to dispose of number one, so we ran a back 

 trail to where he lay. We cut off the head, dragged 

 him by the fore-legs to the edge of the slope, and 

 sent him rolling down the hill, not stopping until 

 he reached the bottom, close to where we had left 

 our horses. We soon followed, and sent off to 

 camp for a couple of pack ponies to take in meat 

 and horns. Having refreshed the inner man with 

 such food as we had brought out, we started off to 

 hunt up number two. Toba had taken his bearings 

 accurately enough, and we soon got on his trial. 

 There was not much blood, except in places where 

 he had lain down to rest. Poor beast, I felt sorry for 



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