230 
WILD NORWAY. 
to level ground, still covered by trees, and tlie second ball 
struck the ribs rather far back. He moved away, though 
evidently “done,” and staggering over a dip received 
a third bullet in the region of the tail as he disappeared. 
At that moment, the cow dashed out from under the 
crag, right beneath us, and offered an easy shot, which 
was declined, B. simultaneously whispering, “Look out, 
there’s the white bull ! ” Again a great mysterious form 
loomed, phantom-like, among the shadows, and stood 
rigid as a grey rock but for those tell-tale ears which 
twitched every way as the bull hesitated, seeking the 
cause and the seat of danger. Again both shoulder and 
flank were protected by intervening trees, till I had crept 
a yard or two through the heather, and even then no 
clear view could be obtained. The first ball, though 
it struck fair, failed to stop him, but the second, beauti¬ 
fully placed behind the shoulder as he bounded forward, 
dropped him direct, and the white bull, plunging- 
forward with resounding crash, next showed all four legs 
in air. 
Ole, with Bengel, had disappeared. Our hunter, 
skilled in the arts of spooring and of woodcraft, was yet 
apt, at critical moments, to lose that “ level head ” which 
it is just then so essential to preserve. At any rate he 
was gone, so B. and I sought a way down the crag to 
examine our game. Though in extremis , the white bull 
still held his head up, and we were at a loss how to finish 
him, having due regard to the sweep and power of his 
hoofs. We therefore proceeded to look for the black 
bull, when Ole returned and told us that that elk had 
gone right away and left no blood-trail! This I well 
knew was impossible, having seen a fore-leg swinging 
