In Gurwal 



thirty to forty yards, then a straight drop of about 

 eight feet. Below this, again, a narrow and steep 

 ledge of shale, then an almost unbroken precipice 

 right down to the Billung torrent far beneath. 

 I could reach the ledge of shale unseen, and once 

 there would be myself unseen from the grassy 

 slope. It was not an inviting task, but I had to 

 try or give him up, so there was no alternative. 

 I got along till I thought I was just under him, 

 then, handing my rifle to Hira Singh, I raised 

 myself till I could look over. There he was gazing 

 straight at me and stamping his foot; he must 

 have heard or winded us, but only seeing my head, 

 he couldn't make out what it was. There was 

 no chance now of being able to wriggle on to the 

 slope, so with as little movement as possible I 

 got my feet into two very secure niches, took 

 my rifle from Hira Singh below and pushed it 

 gently forward, getting my elbows on to the top 

 at the same time. Suddenly it strikes me, will 

 the recoil of my rifle upset my very slender balance 

 and send me backwards? In which case the 

 ledge won't hold me, and I shall be flying through 

 space. Luckily Hira Singh rightly interprets my 

 anxious glance over my shoulder, and, taking up 

 as firm a position as possible, puts his head into 

 the small of my back. Then, concentrating my 

 thoughts on the thar, I aim for his chest and 

 press the trigger. Dropping the rifle immediately 



61 



