

A Day after Bur he I 209 



but seeing my ram standing broadside on, I could 

 bear the strain no longer and pulled the trigger. 

 Once more the unexpected ! Every beast in the 

 herd was off including my ram ! In less time 

 than it takes to write, nothing was left but some 

 dust hanging in the air and two disgusted men 

 staring at it. 



Siring Namgyal and I went to the spot where 

 but a minute before that ram had stood and 

 offered as perfect a target as could be imagined. 

 No blood. The shikari said a miss, but I would 

 not hear of it. We followed the tracks a couple 

 of hundred yards. Still no blood, and the horrid 

 conviction that I had missed an easy shot slowly 

 gained ground and had me in its grasp. Is there 

 anything in the realm of sport that casts such a 

 dismal blackness on the soul as a hopeless, inex- 

 cusable miss ? I went back to the spot to see 

 if any hairs cut by the bullet had fallen some- 

 times a better indication than blood, leaving 

 Siring Namgyal to follow the tracks a little 

 farther. 



Yes ; a few grey hairs showed a hit or a graze 

 probably the latter. The shikari was busy track- 

 ing a long way on by now. But see, what on 

 earth is he doing? I raise my glasses. On a 

 ridge line silhouetted against the sky, one arm 

 thrown out in a triumphant gesture, the other 



o 



