CHAMOIS HUNTING. 
159 
takes aim ; but if, at tbe moment of raising bis piece, tbe chamois 
should look toward him, he must remain perfectly still ; the least 
motion would put them to flight before he could fire, and he is too 
far to risk a shot otherwise than at rest. In taking aim he en- 
deavors to pick out the darkest coat, which is always the fattest 
animal. Accustomed as the chamois are to frequent and loud 
noises among the glaciers, they do not mind the report of the 
arms, so much as the smell of gunpowder, or the sight of a man. 
There are instances of the hunters having time to load again, and 
fire the second time after missing the first, if not seen. No one 
but such a sportsipan can understand the joy of him who, after so 
much toil, sees his prey fall. With shouts of savage triumph he 
springs to seize it, up to his knees in snow, dispatches the victim 
if he finds it not quite dead, and often swallows a draught of warm 
blood, deemed a specific against giddiness ! 
Not unfrequently the best marksman is selected to lie in wait 
for the game, while his associates, leaving their rifles loaded by 
him, and acting the part of hounds, drive it toward the spot. 
Sometimes when the passage is too narrow, a chamois, reduced to 
the last extremity, will rush headlong on the foe, whose only re- 
source to avoid the encounter, which, on the brink of precipices, 
must be fatal, is to lie down and let the frightened animal pass 
over him. It is wonderful to see them climb abrupt and naked 
rocks, and leap from one narrow cliff to another, the smallest pro- 
jection serving them for a point of rest, upon which they alight, 
but only to take another spring. 
The leader of the herd is always an old female — never a male. 
She stands watching when the others lie down, and rests when 
they are up at feed, listening to every sound, and anxiously look- 
ing round. She often ascends a fragment of rock, or heap of 
drifted snow, for a wide field of observation, making a sort of 
gentle hissing noise when she suspects any danger. But when the 
sound rises to a sharper note, the whole troop flies at once, like 
the wind, to some more remote and higher part of the mountain ; 
the death of the old leader is generally fatal to the herd. Their 
fondness for salt makes them frequent salt springs and salt marshes, 
where hunters lie in wait for them. The hunters sometimes prac- 
