THE CHAMOIS 91 



pursuit will probably be fruitless, and if hard hit it is best to let 

 the effect of the wound teli upon the vitality of the animal by 

 waiting an hour or two. If hard hit, it won't go far so long as 

 it remains unpursued, and the great thing is to see where it 

 goes to cover. The temptation to follow the tracks at once is, 

 however, one which in the excitement of the moment is not so 

 easily resisted, and in this instance it was doubly unwise to 

 give way to it, for my shot was less likely to be a fatal one 

 (having been fired at a steep slant downwards) than had it been 

 delivered on the level. It was noon when I fired ; it was past 

 four when, after a persistent chase, I caught sight of the buck 

 four hundred yards off, still on his legs, though evidently hard 

 hit. Probably he had kept me in sight all the time, jumping 

 up from his blood-bespattered couches whenever I got too near. 

 At sunset I was no closer to him, and as he was taking me 

 further and further away from the chalet, a decision whether to 

 sleep out or whether to return for the night to the hut became 

 imperative. Sleeping out, quite unprepared as I happened to be, 

 was, at the altitude I was on and in the chilly October nights, 

 a contingency which if not really necessary was better avoided, 

 particularly as the weather was rapidly assuming a threatening 

 look, and the sky became covered with leaden-hued clouds 

 indicative of coming snow. Taking the shortest route, it was, 

 however, pitch dark when I finally reached the hut. A couple 

 of hours later, when I turned in, a strong wind was blowing, 

 which soon afterwards rose to a fierce gale that made the 

 timbers of the ramshackle old hut groan and creak. It was 

 still quite dark when I woke up, an ominous stillness contrast- 

 ing strangely with the preceding uproar of the elements. The 

 cause was soon explained, for on going to the door and trying 

 to open it I found a couple of feet of snow had drifted against 

 it, and I had to take it off its primitive raw-hide hinges to get 

 it open at ail. The air was thick with big flakes, and the 

 ground was covered to a depth of four or five inches. It was 

 noon before it stopped snowing, though the leaden, sunless 

 sky did not look even then very promising. To search for the 



