194 A HASTY SHOT. 



As the rocks are a long way off, I am unable at first to 

 make out what Gamoo's keen sight has detected ; but at 

 length my eye rests upon a motionless V., which, even far 

 away as it is, looks gigantic. I am afraid, however, from 

 the jabbering whispers and doubtful glances that are ex- 

 changed between my companions, that they are rather 

 perturbed in mind as to the issue of the business. On 

 the spy-glass being put into requisition, it shows me that 

 their anticipations are likely to be verified, for I distinctly 

 see that the beast is gazing straight in our direction ; but 

 it also shows two others, quite as large as himself, that 

 are browsing unconcernedly in his vicinity. 



We lie silently watching him for what seems to my 

 impatient imagination an endless time, as he remains 

 standing there as still as the rocks around him. At 

 length he turns slowly about and is lost to view ; but he 

 soon reappears walking leisurely across the snow-bed, his 

 companions following at short intervals, until they all are 

 hidden behind a high projecting crag. Our only chance 

 and a poor one it is lies in our being able to reach that 

 crag in time for a long shot as they ascend the hillside 

 beyond it ; for although their movements appear slow, they 

 are evidently on the alert, and in all probability will not 

 stop again until they reach some distant sanctuary. 



Up we jump, and set off at our best pace along the 

 snowy incline. It looks easy enough to travel over, but 

 we get dreadfully "pumped," for the more rarefied air at 

 this height at least 12,000 feet soon begins to tell on 

 our wind. At last, panting and almost broken-hearted, 

 we reach the crag. There is no time to wait for breath, 

 as two of the markhor that are still in sight are just about 

 to move over a brow nearly two hundred yards above us. 

 Oh that I had the long Henry with me now ! for I have 

 not much faith in the short double rifle at such a distance. 

 With my chest heaving, and my pulses throbbing as if 

 ready to burst, I thrust my alpenstock into the snow to 



