MORE TUR HUNTING 193 



trouble. If ibex only would be so obliging ! " Much 

 virtue in If." 



They ceased their mountaineering, and let us in for 

 a longish stalk, which finally brought us within about 

 170 yards of the creatures, but even at that near thing 

 they looked absurdly small, so steep was the side of the 

 kloof whereon they fed, so high and directly above 

 them were we. 



I lay down on the edge of a jutting spur and took 

 careful aim at the tur whose head looked the weightiest. 

 Bang ! A clean miss. I had gone far too high, as often 

 happens in downhill shots. A little more foresight — 

 and a trifle more insight ! — and the beast had been mine. 



I didn't really think of foresight or insight at the 

 moment, for at such awful times one takes things in the 

 absolute concrete and there's no desire to theorize. 

 Theories are for the unemployed. 



The other tur, whose life had not been attempted, took 

 a forceful header, which carried him down the precipi- 

 tous place like a bounding ball. He reached the valley 

 level in a flash, and took the torrent in his stride as 

 though its foaming waters were a mere thread. Into 

 the grey of the opposite boulders he passed and was 

 lost to sight. 



The headlong rush of ibex reminds me of the flight of 

 birds. The same lightness and abandon is in their 

 impetuous action, the same marvellous equipoise, 

 the same ease and rapidity of movement. I never saw 

 that gloriously free downward sweep without being 

 brought to think of eagles soaring above the snow 

 peaks. 



