respectful distance from the two sportsmen and making
the flock remain in his rear, while he fronted the intruders--
continually retreating as they advanced, and dexterously shifting his
position, by a flank movement every now and then, so as not to be driven
over the cliffs.

"Master Billy can't be ignorant of men folk or firearms," said Eric,
when he had missed his second shot, "otherwise, he would not remain so
far off!"

"He was probably brought here originally from the Cape," replied Fritz,
telling his brother to aim lower next time, his last bullet having only
missed by too great an elevation. "So, like all animals that have once
heard a gun go off, he knows what it means! Most likely, if I had not
fired twice at those little birds, we might have got up quite close to
the flock; but, the old gentleman must have heard the report and that
has made him so cautious about letting us approach. Look out, Eric;
now's your chance! Only aim low and steadily, and you will bring down
that kid there to the right!"

Puff, bang! No sooner said than done.

"Hurrah!" shouted Eric, "I've got him this time, without fail!"

He had; for, although the flock of goats scampered off from the thicket
they were at that moment occupying towards another woody clump on the
opposite side of the plain, darting away with the rapidity of the wind,
they left one of their number behind.

The unfortunate victim was a pretty little kid, about three months old;
and it lay stretched out, bleeding, on the grass. Its body had been
perforated by the bullet from Eric's rifle.

"That was a capital shot!" exclaimed Fritz, when the two came up to
where the poor little kid lay. "The ball has passed right through its
heart; so, you must have aimed, as I told you, behind the shoulder."

"I did," said Eric, alike proud of his powers and the compliment; "but,
poor little thing, it seems a pity to have killed it!"

"Ah," remarked Fritz the practical, "still, roast mutton will taste nice
after our living on salt meat for so many days, eh?"

"Yes," replied Eric, with much satisfaction, his sympathy for the
slaughtered kid quickly disappearing at the thought of all that young
Glass had told him as to the flavour of the animal when cooked. "It is
better than the tenderest pork, they say."

"Very well, we'll try it for dinner to-morrow and see whether we agree
with that verdict. It will be too late to cook it when we get home this
evening."

"Dea