"The beggar is hearing me and so keeps out of sight," said Cameron as
he paused to listen. He resolved to proceed more slowly and with greater
caution, but though he followed this plan for another half hour it
brought him no better success. The day was fast passing and he could
not much longer continue his pursuit. He became conscious of pain in his
injured foot. He sat down to rest and to review his situation. For the
first time he observed that the bright sky of the morning had become
overcast with a film of hazy cloud and that the temperature was rapidly
falling. Prudence suggested that he should at once make his way back to
camp, but with the instinct of the true hunter he was loath to abandon
the poor wounded beast to its unhappy fate. He resolved to make one
further attempt. Refreshed by his brief rest, but with an increasing
sense of pain in his foot, he climbed the slight rising ground before
him, cautiously pushed his way through some scrub, and there, within
easy shot, stood the buck, with drooping head and evidently with
strength nearly done. Cameron took careful aim--there must be no mistake
this time--and fired. The buck leaped high in the air, dropped and lay
still. The first shot had broken his leg, the second had pierced his
heart.
Cameron hurried forward and proceeded to skin the animal.
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