How could four sheep be there,
when I knew there were only three!

Usually I am perfectly cool when shooting and have all my excitement
when the work is done, but the unexpected advent of that ram turned
on the thrills a bit too soon. I forgot what I had whispered to
myself at every shot, "Aim low, aim low. You are shooting down
hill." I held squarely on his gray-white shoulder and pulled the
trigger. The bullet just grazed his back. He ran a few steps and
stopped. Again I fired hurriedly, and the ball missed him by the
fraction of an inch. I saw it strike and came to my senses with a
jerk; but it was too late, for the rifle was empty. Before I could
cram in another shell the sheep was gone.

Na-mon-gin was absolutely disgusted. Even though I had killed two
fine rams, he wanted the big one. "But," I said, "where did the
fourth sheep come from? I saw only three." He looked at me in
amazement. "Didn't you know that the ram which walked by us went
over to the others?" he answered. "Any one ought to have known that
much."

Well, I hadn't known. Otherwise, I should have held my fire. Right
there the Mongol read me a lecture on too much haste. He said I was
like every other foreigner--always in a rush. He said a lot of other
things which I accepted meekly, for I knew that he was right. I
always _am_ in a hurry. Missing that ram had taken most of the joy
out of the others; and to make matters worse, the magnificent animal
stationed himself on the very hillside where we had been sitting
when we saw them first and, with the little ewe close beside him,
watched us for half an hour.

Na-mon-gin glared at him and shook his fist. "We'll get you
to-morrow, you old rabbit," he said; and then to me, "Don't you care.
I won't eat till we kill him."

For the next ten minutes the kindly old Mongol devoted himself to
bringing a smile to my lips. He told me he knew just where that ram
would go; we couldn't have carried in his head anyway; that it would
be much better to save him for to-morrow; and that I had killed the
other two so beautifully that he was proud of me.

I continued to feel better when I saw the two dead _argali_. They
were both fine rams, in perfect condition, with beautiful horns. One
of them was the sheep which had walked so close to us; there was no
doubt of that, for I had been able to see the details of his "face
and figure." Every _argali_ has its own special characters which are
unmistakable. In the carriage