364 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



All hunters, however experienced, are occasionally 

 liable to periods of missing. I have heard of Red 

 Indians as well as western trappers who occasionally 

 had runs of bad luck as we may even term it in hunt- 

 ing, when for days together the bullet would graze 

 the back or the belly of deer or antelope, but would 

 not hit the mark, half-way between. The Indian, 

 being superstitious, would invoke the aid of the 

 medicine-man to remove the curse from his rifle. 

 The white trapper doggedly persevered till hand and 

 eye regained their cunning. 



All this merely tends to show that the art of skilful 

 rifle-shooting cannot be absolutely mastered, and, even 

 if possessed in a high degree, does not always and in- 

 variably come to hand when called upon. Like the 

 best form of a first-class golfer, it will at times mys- 

 teriously come and go when least desired or expected. 

 A man may spend a lifetime in learning the use of the 

 rifle, on the range or in the field, and then at any time 

 may lose his former pitch of skill from want of health 

 or condition, or from cessation of practice. This, 

 again, is another way of saying that the real artistic 

 use of any rifle is a question of fine skill and firm 

 though delicate touch and manipulation, in which 

 good condition of nerve and muscle and the accurate 

 and harmonious working of hand and eye are abso- 

 lutely essential for the best performance. 



Let the young hunter, then, go forth and find out 

 the difficulties and attractions of the sport for himself. 

 I am quite prepared to find that he will scorn the 

 advice of his elders, and prefer naturally enough 

 the school of practical experiment. But let him 

 remember that there is a humane aspect of the whole 

 matter. To miss a fine beast, carrying a first-class 



