MY FIRST SHOT AT A MARKHOR 141 



Thank God, we are up at last ! There is only a 

 man's height still to climb, and then we shall be able 

 to look over. 



The shikaris hand me my rifle, the cartridges, and 

 the telescope. I screw it on and load. 



" Stop a minute. I must get my breath." Very 

 carefully, and almost with affection, the men scoop 

 out the last few steps. 



"We think the game must be quite near, the 

 tracks are so very fresh. It would be best if the Sahib 

 would go up and have a look round alone first." 



Off with the toupee ! Higher and higher, inch by 

 inch, my head goes slowly and carefully up. And 

 before I can look over I hear a sharp hiss, and 

 at the same moment a short, broken-oflF bark the 

 first sound in these mountains. It seems half 

 ghostly, half reproachful. " Got you, you thief, you 

 disturber of the peace." 



" Markhor," whisper the shikaris. 



I wriggle onward on my stomach, peep over, 

 wriggle still further, lean over still more, and yet for 

 the life of me I can see nothing. Where on earth 

 did the hissing note of warning come from ? It 

 seemed to be so near. They ought to be standing 

 directly beneath me. Questioningly I turn towards 

 the men, who are squatting on a lower level, and as 

 I do so my eyes rest suddenly on that which they 

 have been so hungrily seeking, standing in a dark 

 fissure, free from snow, about fifty feet off. 



