A DANGEROUS BIT. 185 



ally away as the veil of mist again steals up and conceals 

 them from our entranced gaze. 



How to stalk them is now the question. The only place 

 from which there is a chance of getting a fair shot is the 

 ridge ahove, where the big pine-trees are, as the nature of 

 the ground is such that the animals will be pretty certain 

 to move down on the other side of it, and so out of our 

 sight. There is only a short distance across to it, but should 

 the mist clear off before we can reach it, we shall be in full 

 view of the herd ; and the slope is so frightfully precipitous, 

 that it makes one almost shudder to contemplate what the 

 consequences of a false step on the wet slippery ground 

 might be. However, there is no time to think much about 

 it, for the mist may lift again at any moment, when our 

 chance of reaching the ridge unobserved will be gone ; so, 

 screwing up my nerves, I determine to risk anything rather 

 than lose such an opportunity. 



Slowly and carefully we plant the sides of our feet in the 

 small nicks scraped out of the face of the hard, almost per- 

 pendicular slope, with the iron spuds on our long sticks, and 

 luckily reach the ridge just in time, for we can hear the 

 animals on the move again though we cannot see them. 

 Sticking the points of my toes into the ground, I cautiously 

 slip the long barrel of my single Henry rifle over the ridge, 

 whilst Hatha lays hold of the loose part of my nether gar- 

 ments, for so precarious is the footing that even the recoil 

 of the rifle may cause a slip. Once more the mist clears off 

 and discloses the whole herd, now coming straight down to- 

 wards us. As Gamoo crouches beside me, ready to hand me 

 my second rifle, a double (not the Whitworth then, or it 

 should have had the post of honour), I can hear him pray- 

 ing to Allah and the Prophet for help, and cautioning me 

 not to fire in a hurry, alternately. The leading buck is 

 within fifty yards and broadside on, when Gamoo whispers, 

 " Now, take a good aim." 



Can I have missed the beast ? — for he still holds steadily 



