I stood up cautiously to look round the edge of the rock at the herd. All at once I heard a noise behind me. I was shaking like a leaf with the excitement which always seizes me when I am hunting and come near beasts without yet reaching a place from which to shoot. But as I swung round to meet the noise I ceased to tremble; my nerves were strung like a taut bow; my right hand turned the safety catch and the rifle came to my side at the ready; its muzzle swung until it pointed directly at a man less than a hundred yards away. We stared at each other for what seemed an eternal space. I was conscious of nothing in the world but this man, facing me, with his rifle, like my own, pointed at me, and my breathful lungs. I saw him with more clarity than anything else has ever shown. I saw his white face and his tattered clothes and the bandolier slung across his chest. I saw his bare head and the wind blowing its unkempt black hair. The rifle swung up to his shoulder and its sound crashed out in my face. I felt something tug at my side; blinding rage swept over me. I flung myself on my face in the lee of the rock and as I reached the ground I fired. He was drawing back the bolt of his rifle to reload when I fired. How could I miss? he was foursquare before me, a broader target than any stag or hind. I had reloaded and my rifle was trained on his chest before he moved again. I waited for him to send the bolt home. I would not fire till he was ready. His right hand went to his throat, his left arm, gripping the rifle by the stock, extended slowly. His head fell back and his mouth opened. As his left arm stretched out to its full length the rifle flung from his grasp; he took a short step forward and stumbled, the fingers of his left hand spread out like a fan; he began to fall, slowly; and then he pitched on his face. The smell of cordite was in my nostrils; I was half drunk with the noise of my rifle and the smell of powder; fierce exultation filled me. I heard the clip of deer’s hooves over stones; my breath went out with a gusty sound. I thought, it happened in the time of drawing a breath. I got up and leaned against the rock. I was shaking now; my limbs felt cold. There was a burning in my lungs and a nausea in my stomach as if I had run up a steep brae until breath and strength failed. I took my telescope from its case to train it on my enemy. He lay as he fell. I walked towards him, stumbling as I went. My nerveless fingers would scarcely hold the rifle.