WAITING FOR A EAM TO RISE. 449 



Ammon, and there was such a gale of wind blowing as to 

 make accurate shooting almost impossible, I refrained from 

 attempting to take him at so great a disadvantage, hoping 

 that we might eventually get nearer, until presently he lay 

 down where he was. The sun had now sunk behind the 

 snowy Himalayan summits, and still the burrell did not 

 move. At long-last he rose, and as it had grown too late 

 for us to wait until he thought proper to shift his ground, I 

 decided to risk a long shot. He was standing broadside on, 

 with the upper half of his body showing against the sky, and 

 the strong wind was blowing from directly behind him ; so 

 taking as steady an aim as rude Boreas would permit, I let 

 drive at his haunch, trusting that the deflected bullet might 

 catch him somewhere about the shoulder. " Habet ! " Away 

 he goes with that reckless headlong speed which an animal, 

 when struck in the region of the heart, so often puts forth 

 for a short distance ere he falls lifeless ; and almost imme- 

 diately we lose sight of him behind a neighbouring brow. 

 As I had distinctly heard the unmistakable "tell" of the 

 bullet, we at once followed up, and soon found him lying 

 stone-dead, about 150 yards beyond where he had disap- 

 peared, with the bullet-hole just behind his shoulder. His 

 head, which was a fairly good one, was cut off, and leaving 

 his carcass to be fetched next morning, we were soon " mak- 

 ing tracks " towards camp. On our way down we disturbed 

 a large flock of burrell, our attention having first been drawn 

 towards them by the clatter of stones and shingle dislodged, 

 in their rapid flight, on the steep hill-face they were ascend- 

 ing. As far as we could see in the dusky light, they were 

 ewes and little lambs. "We were evidently in a nursery of 

 both Oves Ammon and burrell in this locality, for we had seen 

 no small lambs of either kind elsewhere. 



Previous to our descent we had noticed that the compan- 

 ions of the ram I had killed, which turned out to be seven 

 in number, had, after their first scare from the shot, resumed 



2F 



