whole band was off like a flight of 
arrows. 
“Shoot! Shoot!” cried Nimrod, 
but my gun was already up and levelled 
on the flying buck —now nearly a hun- 
dred yards away. 
Bang! The deadly thing went forth 
to do its work. Sliding another car- 
tridge into the chamber, I held ready 
for another shot. 
There was no need. The fleet-footed 
monarch’s reign was over, and already 
he had gone to his happy hunting 
ground. The bullet had gone straight 
to his heart, and he had not suffered. 
But the does, the twenty beating hearts 
of his harem! There they were, not 
one hundred yards away, huddled to- 
gether with ears erect, tiny feet alert 
for the next bound— yet waiting for 
their lord and master, the proud tyrant, 
LAER 
“OO NAMOZM ZHZOS > 
