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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Long Odds by H. Rider Haggard: something. For a couple of hours I poked about without seeing anything
that I could get a shot at, but at last, just as I was again within
seventy yards of the waggon, I put up an old Impala ram from behind a
mimosa thorn. He ran straight for the waggon, and it was not till he
was passing within a few feet of it that I could get a decent shot at
him. Then I pulled, and caught him half-way down the spine. Over he
went, dead as a door-nail, and a pretty shot it was, though I ought not
to say it. This little incident put me into rather a better humour,
especially as the buck had rolled right against the after-part of the
waggon, so I had only to gut him, fix a reim round his legs, and haul
him up. By the time I had done this the sun was down, and the full moon
Long Odds |
