Caspar did not speculate long about the cause. The creature, as it stood right before the muzzle of his gun, now offered too tempting a shot, and the right-hand barrel put an end to its barking.
“You’re not what I came after,” soliloquised Caspar; “but the old stag’s no great eating, he’s too tough for me. You, my little fellow, look more tender, and, I dare say, will make capital venison. Hang there, then, till I return for you!”
So saying, Caspar, having already strung the kakur’s legs, lifted the carcass, and hung it to the branch of a tree.
Then, reloading his right-hand barrel with a fresh bullet, he continued on in search of the herd of yaks.
Chapter Thirty Four.
The Argus-Pheasant.
Caspar proceeded with increased caution. His design was to stalk the wild oxen; and he had left Fritz at the hut, as the dog could be of no use in that sort of hunting.
He intended to stalk the animals with more than ordinary caution, for two reasons. The first was, of course, in order to get a shot at them; but there was another reason why he should be careful, and that was, the fierce and dangerous nature of the game. He had not forgotten the way in which the old bull had behaved at their last interview; and Karl had particularly cautioned him, before setting out, to act prudently, and to keep out of the way of the bull’s horns. He was not to fire at the yaks, unless there was a tree near, or some other shelter, to which he could retreat if pursued by the bull.