IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 333 



drawers, which looked like business. Leaving the 

 bare limestone peak of the Ljeljen (nearly G400 feet) 

 to our right, we climbed a last hill, and came out 

 on the south side of the Kakitnica gorge. This 

 brook is the most important feeder of the Upper 

 Narenta, and its ravine is stupendous, reminding 

 one of the descriptions of the canyons of America. 

 Here we espied the slope under us, which is 

 practicable to the edge of the cliff itself, but in 

 vain. A little further on we prepared for action, 

 and it was high time, for the day was well 

 advanced. Bosco and Duran were to go down 

 with the hounds, and stop the game running back, 

 while Joso, I, and old Didic with my second rifle 

 took post a quarter of a mile further on. Here I 

 had a stand overlooking two couloirs, which seemed 

 likely enough. 



For some time we watched the two descending 

 beaters, and at last heard the shouts with which 

 they uncoupled the pack. Not two minutes later 

 the native bitch — who, by the way, was much too 

 free with her tongue — opened. Her note was 

 monotonous and peculiar — " tow — tow — tow" un- 

 ceasingly. However, this time she was right, for 

 my hounds scored to cry, and it was soon obvious 

 there was game enough on foot. Presently I made 

 out a chamois with the glass. For over a minute 

 it stood on a ledge, looking and listening, and then 

 turned down. Then two more crossed an open 



