IN THE LAND OP THE BORA. 127 



expectation of a momentary whirr of wings, only 

 to see the head of some silly-looking old ewe over 

 the rocks at last, or to hear the disappointing 

 tinkle of a hell. "Ware sheep!" was the word 

 then, and the weary climb began again. 



I was going along a sheep-track that wound 

 among several knolls, when the rolling of a stone 

 made me turn my head sharply, without thinking, 

 however, of seeing anything more exciting than 

 a sheep that had winded the dogs, or perhaps 

 even a peasant, though I never had met one up 

 there. 



Imagine my surprise when my eyes fell on a 

 stag ! I felt almost inclined to rub them. Yes, 

 there he was beyond doubt, and, what was more, 

 not much, if at all, over sixty yards off, down 

 wind. He was at gaze when I first saw him, 

 and then he turned and slowly disappeared over 

 the rocks, showing me what my fancy made 

 appear a temptingly fat haunch as he did so. In 

 my experience, after his first look back a deer 

 generally travels best pace. 



Now, the gun I had with me in Dalmatia has 

 a left barrel specially bored for ball ; but, anyhow, 

 that shot should have been a certainty with a 

 smoothbore. Why, then, did I not take it ? 

 Simply for the reason that, to economize weight, 

 I had that morning only put in my bag cartridges 

 for the sport I expected — all No. 5. I could have 



