150 SPORT AND TRAVEL 



opportunity for remorse afterwards ; now my only 

 object was to get up to the ridge in the least possible 

 time, and we started. 



In the first five minutes of dashing up a mountain- 

 side, no matter in how good condition is the hunter, 

 his breath leaves him utterly, his throat seems pulled 

 together as if by a strangling rope, and his chest feels 

 like caving in. He tells himself that he cannot pos- 

 sibly do it, that he must slow up or choke, and the 

 surer he is that he has taken his last step, the harder 

 he goes at it. The second five minutes are easier; 

 his muscles limber up, his throat loosens, his breath 

 comes more regularly ; in the third five minutes he 

 has no desire to stop. But this is just where a rest 

 is necessary, for there is no use in coming on the 

 game with the heart pounding like a trip-hammer. 

 He must stop and imagine himself anywhere but 

 about to reach in the next minute the point on which 

 the whole success of his stalk depends. If he can do 

 this, he will have almost immediate control of nerves 

 and muscles. 



I waited, then crept to the ridge and peered over. 

 Two hundred and fifty yards away, filing slowly up 

 a shale cleft in the mountain and totally unaware 

 of our presence, were the whole herd, broadside on. 

 With the telescope it was easy to pick out several 

 fine heads, but they were shifting like the bits of 



