IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 355 



my companion beginning to fidget, so, guessing 

 the animal would fail to locate the origin of the 

 sound correctly, I gave a shrill whistle. 



Directly afterwards the buck dashed straight 

 towards me. As he was making for thicker covert, 

 I dared not pause, but snapped at him at not 

 more than twenty-five yards' range. He turned 

 a back somersault, and then struggled to his feet, 

 I giving him a too-hurried and ill-judged second 

 barrel as he did so — a miss, of course. Before I 

 could reload he moved off, but I caught another 

 glimpse of him going slowly through the bushes. 

 Of course my Turk rushed off in pursuit, and the 

 result of this was that in a few minutes I saw him 

 (the chamois, I mean), very sick, but nevertheless 

 able to climb a cliff to my right rear. Although 

 the distance was a bit too far for my weapon, I 

 sent a bullet after him, and then — he was gone. 

 My shots had turned another, which I saw going 

 up the slope opposite again ; and I heard a third 

 whistle, but failed to catch sight of him, though I 

 came on his tracks presently. 



A few minutes later a roe ran right into me, 

 but it was a doe, and of course I did not fire. 

 When I was satisfied that there was no further 

 chance of sport, I proceeded to visit the scene of 

 action. To my surprise and disgust, the first 

 thing I saw on the ground was the lens of an eye, 

 with the liquid from that organ, but not much 



