IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 95 



wheeling above me, and, indeed, Almissa seems to 

 be a paradise for birds of prey. 



The ascent of the oak-covered piece took some 

 time longer. To my right I could hear the roaring 

 of a waterfall, where in wet weather a single leap 

 carries the water from a cleft in the hilltop almost 

 down to the village of Zakusac, little, if at all, 

 above sea-level. On emerging, I came upon three 

 or four Morlaks herding sheep and conversing 

 loudly. Consequently I was thinking of nothing 

 less than shooting, when all at once an eagle swept 

 over the hilltop within five yards of me. He had 

 increased the distance to thirty-five before I had 

 "unslung arms" and fired; nor was it till I saw 

 the feathers fly under the wing at the crack of the 

 Schultze that I recollected that my larger shot 

 (though all too small for such a quarry) were in the 

 left barrel. I fired again, but though the eagle 

 was obviously sick, he held on down towards 

 the valley, and I never saw him again. One eagle 

 remained soaring alone for some time over the 

 castle, but whether the imperial bird had suc- 

 cumbed to my shot, or, as I incline to believe, 

 they had parted company before I saw them the 

 second time, I shall never know. 



I was, and am, rather ashamed of this shot, 

 especially as I have so often preached against the 

 wanton spirit which causes the home gunner to 

 desire to bring down every rare bird that visits his 



