174 CAMP FIRE REMINISCENCES 
me to come up, pointed out the goats crossing us 
about one hundred yards ahead. We could only 
_ see their backs at times as the scrub was very 
dense. He told me that a certain white one had 
the best head that I would see. As the horse was 
breathing hard, and as I was puffed and my right 
arm tired with punching, I could not hit anything 
from its back, so dismounting, I climbed to a 
large stone and every time I saw the white goat I 
fired until the guide said, ‘‘You have got him.”’ 
Leaving the beast, which I was personally not at 
all sure of having hit, we hurried on to another 
place from which we could see them going in single 
file along a rocky ridge. The white chap was cer- 
tainly missing and I devoted my attention to a big 
black one. They were probably one hundred and 
fifty yards away, and I was puffed with the exer- 
tion, so shot very badly and had almost exhausted 
my magazine before scoring a hit. The guide now 
went off after the wounded one while I rested, but 
on looking over the country with my glasses, saw 
a single animal which I proceeded to stalk. For 
some distance the way was through dense scrub, 
then I reached a spot from which an easy hundred- _ 
yard shot was obtained and succeeded in bagging 
the beast with the first bullet. Running up, I 
found that the head was destroyed, as one horn 
which had been injured at its base by the bullet, 
had broken off in the fall. 
Joe now returned with the head of the black billy 
he had gone after. It was very fine and heavy, — 
measuring twenty-five inches. How sad it is for 
