This gully was in places almost chasm-like in its formation, and was indescribably wild and gloomy in the utter solitude of the grey afternoon. I had just crossed it where the path dipped, when, looking up, there stood a klipspringer gazing at me. He was an easy hundred yard shot. Slipping from the saddle on the further side from him, I thought to myself that Falkner would not altogether have the crow over me when we got back. But--when I looked again, expecting to take a quick aim, by Jingo! the little beast had disappeared. This was annoying, for now a disinclination to return empty handed had seized me. Quickly and noiselessly I made my way up to where he had been. It was as I had thought. He had been standing on a sort of pinnacle; and now, as I peered cautiously over, there stood the little buck, less than the first distance below. He was outlined against the black and shadowed bottom of the gorge, and was gazing away from me. Now I would have him, I decided. In a second my sights were on him full--I didn't take long over aiming in those days--when I lowered the rifle with some precipitation. Right bang in a line with where the klipspringer had been standing--had been, observe, for the slight additional movement on my part had caused him to disappear again--was the form of a man. It gave me a turn, for with lightning rapidity it flashed through my mind that nothing could have saved him. Then consternation gave way to curiosity. The form though that of a man was not that of a living one. Down in the shadow of a dark hole, overhung by gloomy rocks, it sprawled in a constrained half upright posture against one of these. It was too far off and the light not good enough to be able to distinguish how it was secured in this position, but it seemed to be facing upward in a dreadful attitude of scared supplication. I would go down and investigate. But before I had taken many steps in pursuance of this resolve I stopped short. For an idea had occurred to me. The body was that of a native, and it was obvious that life had been extinct for some time. What good purpose could I serve by investigating it further? I was in a savage country in which life was held cheap. The man whoever he might be, had quite likely been executed for some offence; the method of his death being in all probability designed to fit the offence. Clearly therefore it was no concern of mine, and accordingly I decided to forego further investigation. And then, as though to confirm me in the good policy of such decision something happened--something that was sufficiently startling. A bullet pinged against a stone beside me, sending up a hard splash of splinters and dust, and, confound it, the thing had hit barely a yard from where I was standing. "Hallo, Falkner!" I hailed, deeming the puff of smoke from among the rocks above and opposite must be his work. "Look out I'm here. D'you hear, man?"