72 LODGES IN THE WILDERNESS 



were eight birds in it. They paused and stood 

 at gaze for a short interval, about a mile away. 

 Then they resumed their flight along a course 

 which would, if they held it, bring them to 

 within less than three hundred yards of me, on 

 my right. 



On they pressed with even, steady stride. 

 Two were young but full-grown cocks with 

 snow-white, sumptuous plumes. Cautiously I 

 laid my rifle over the edge of the scherm and 

 adjusted the sight to two hundred yards. The 

 steel barrel scorched my fingers. Would the 

 birds stand, that was the question of import- 

 ance. A running shot is always uncertain. 



They halted when some two hundred and 

 fifty yards away. Of the two gallant cocks one 

 was manifestly superior; my bead was on him. 

 I pulled the trigger; there was a tremendous 

 report and the recoil nearly stunned me. My 

 shot had missed. The birds sped away, at 

 right angles to their original course. They 

 became confused and ran hither and thither, 

 for the near whiz of the bullet had alarmed 

 them nearly as much as the distant detonation. 

 But soon the bird I had fired at was speeding 

 straight away from me. Within ten seconds I 

 fired again, and he fell. The explanation of 

 my having missed the first and easier shot is 



