290 IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 



Then he struck a reef of rock. Whether his 

 impetus or an attempt to rise carried him on 

 I cannot say, but he clattered over it and shot 

 down a second snow-slope nearly as long as the 

 first, and finally brought up against some more 

 rock. I watched him a minute or two longer, 

 and then he lowered his head. Little doubt 

 of finding him now; so I turned back to seek 

 the dog. It did not take me long to get 

 back then, and then I made for a point where 

 I imagined it would be possible to get down. 

 But, in the first place, the getting there involved 

 rather a nasty descent, which the dog declined ; 

 and, secondly, when I got to my spot I found it 

 quite impossible. Nor could I even get a look 

 at my game without a risky climb. There was 

 nothing for it but to go round the cliff to my 

 right, a proceeding which a grass terrace facili- 

 tated. Nothing is more convenient for the 

 chamois-hunter than these same terraces, as 

 long as he keeps away from the edge and does 

 not look down ; but one must know them, or 

 else at the end of half an hour one comes to a 

 fault in the rock which involves going back, 

 perhaps to where one started from. It proved 

 so in this case, but the place w r as not so bad but 

 that I could negotiate it by a flat crawl, pushing 

 my rifle and stick before me, and then all was 

 plain sailing. At this stage I was joined by the 



