CHAPTER XLII 



A NIGHT IN THE OPEN 



THE sun has already gone to rest down in the valley, 

 but up here it is still coquetting and admiring itself 

 in the manifold mirrors. 



The markhor, meanwhile, continue their down- 

 ward journey, stopping every now and then to gaze 

 around before nibbling at the sparse grass and moss 

 as they slip, climb, and spring from rock to rock, 

 from crag to crag. 



And now I can distinctly see the master-buck 

 through the telescope. He seldom bends down to 

 graze, and when he does so, only for a few seconds. 

 Sharply he raises his proud head, and, motionless, 

 stares in our direction. Then slowly, and with 

 majestic, dignified mien, he follows the rest of the 

 flock. 



It grows darker and darker up here in the 

 mountains, but there is nothing to be done the 

 markhor are still too far off to risk a shot. The 

 shades of night come quickly once the sun has sunk 



to rest, and twilight soon throws a veil over the 



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