Howard Lawrence was in the very act of doing so when his arm was suddenly arrested by his companion, who, with an exclamation of surprise pointed to a ledge of rocks above them.
CHAPTER XL.
THE END OF THE SEARCH.
About a hundred and fifty feet above them, almost perpendicularly upward, stood an antelope, its small neck outstretched, and its dark, beautiful eyes fixed upon them with a wondering expression. It was on the very edge of a projecting rock where one step more would bring it over.
"It is jist the jintleman we wants," whispered Tim, fearful that he would alarm the timid animal. "We've ate but once in twenty-four hours, and I've jist learned from me stomach that it would have no objection to breaking the same fast; so do yez jist kape still till I pops him over."
"Can you hit him?" asked Howard, scarcely less excited than his companion.
"Be aisy now till ye see the scientific manner I takes to doot."
"Well, be quick, for he is likely to vanish any moment."
Tim O'Rooney carefully sighted his rifle, took a quick, steady aim, and pulled the trigger. Howard, who was keenly watching the antelope, saw it spring up, and as it came down it missed the cliff and fell almost at their very feet with a violence and crash which must have broken half the bones in its body.